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VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 


VIVIAN'S    PATH 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 


BY 
WILLIAM  C.   LEVERE 


CHICAGO 

FORBES  &  COMPANY 
1911 


COPYRIGHT,   1911,    BY 
FORBES  AND  COMPANY 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

I    AN   ISLAND  GIRL 9 

II    THE  ESCAPE 21 

III  IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  LAW 33 

IV  THE  FLIGHT  FROM  THE  HOUSE 45 

V    A  REFUGE  IN  SUGAB  LOAF 53 

VI    VIVIAN  OUTWITS  HER  PURSUERS 67 

VII    AT  THE  OLD  FOBT 75 

VIII    THE  RESULT  OF  THE  INQUEST 87 

\ 
IX     A  BOAT  IN  THE  STRAITS 99 

X    THE  HUMBLING  OF  JIM  HESTER 107 

XI    "THE  LITTLE  EVA" 119 

XII    HABVEST  TIME  IN  A  RIVEB  CITY 133 

XIII  IN  A  NEW  WORLD 147 

XIV  VIVIAN    OF   THE    FOOTLIGHTS 159 

XV    THE  FACE  OF  A  FOE 175 

XVI    A  STRANGER  IN  A  GREAT  Cmr 185 

XVII  THE  WITCH  IN  THE  CHUBCH     .     .     ...     .   195 

XVIII  OLD  FBIENDS  MEET  AGAIN  .     .     .     .     .     .     .  203 


2136887 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX  THE  VOICES  OF  THE  SHELLS 217 

XX  THE  WITCH'S  SON 227 

XXI  THE  STEUGGLE  IN  THE  CHURCH 243 

XXII  IN  A  CIRCLE  OF  FRIENDSHIP 251 

XXIII  THE  PLAYER  GIRL 261 

XXIV  THE  PLAY'S  CLIMAX 271 

XXV  THE  SKEIN  UNTANGLED 283 

XXVI  BACK  TO  THE  ISLAND           295 


AN  ISLAND  GIRL 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

CHAPTER  I 

AN   ISLAND   GIEL 

TTIVIAN  lay  on  the  crest  of  the  cliff,  listen- 
»  ing  to  the  murmur  of  the  waters  and  the 
whisperings  in  the  tree  tops.  In  the  straits, 
the  breezes  were  gathering  while  the  waves  be- 
low were  striking  the  shore  with  a  sting  in  their 
blow.  On  the  bit  of  the  island  beneath  her, 
separating  the  cliff  from  the  beach,  the  foliage 
of  the  trees  was  quivering  with  life.  Wander- 
ing clouds  here  and  there  set  off  the  beauty  of 
the  blue  sky,  though  the  waters  were  radiant 
and  sparkling,  for  the  face  of  the  sun  was  un- 
covered. 

How  this  girl  of  eighteen  loved  it  all.    As 
far  back  as  she  could  remember,  from  the  very 

9 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

beginning  of  her  life,  she  had  been  clambering 
up  the  narrow,  precipitous  path  to  this  cliff, 
and  enthroned  here,  had  given  herself  to  the 
inspiration  of  the  ever  changing  scene.  Vivian 
had  learned  the  language  of  the  waves  and  of 
the  winds  in  the  trees.  They  brought  her 
strange  messages  from  the  faraway  world  she 
had  never  seen,  the  world  of  which  she  loved 
to  dream  and  wonder  whether  she  would  ever 
see.  Two  miles  away,  on  the  road  to  the  Brit- 
ish Landing,  was  the  old  farmhouse  which  had 
been  her  birthplace.  She  had  never  known  any 
home  but  this,  and  if  she  sometimes  wished  to 
see  the  marvelous  sights  in  the  great  cities  to 
the  south,  it  was  but  a  brief  ambition,  for  here 
in  the  little  island  she  found  her  heart  content. 
From  her  lofty  cliff,  she  could  see  the  little 
village  as  it  stretched  a  mile  away  at  the  base 
of  Mackinac.  She  seldom  ventured  there. 
Her  tasks  at  home  completed,  she  knew  peace 
when  she  came  through  the  trees  that  lined  the 
old  road  to  the  rugged  peak  that  lifted  its  head 

10 


AN  ISLAND  GIRL 

above  the  waters  and  shore, — the  soft  odor  of 
the  balsams  and  cedars  soothed  her  spirit. 

Vivian  Summers  was  a  dreamer.  The  few 
books  in  the  farmhouse  were  the  romantic 
tales  of  the  great  Scotch  wizard,  and  these  she 
had  read  again  and  again.  They  had  fur- 
nished food  for  her  delicate  imagination  and 
she  rewove  them  with  the  strange  stories  the 
waves  sung  to  her  as  she  listened  from  the 
cliff.  But  she  found  her  hero  in  none  of  the 
knights  of  olden  story.  This  lofty  place  was 
reserved  for  her  big,  handsome,  generous 
brother,  Tom.  To  Vivian,  no  one  was  quite  so 
close  as  this  fine,  browned,  manly  fellow.  For 
him  and  her  father  and  mother  her  heart  was 
full  of  affection,  even  though  none  of  them 
could  ever  quite  understand  her  love  of  solitude 
or  the  vivid  fancy  of  which  they  at  times  saw 
flashes.  The  father  and  the  mother  were  re- 
served, contained  people  without  the  emotional 
qualities  that  characterized  their  children. 

The  stalwart  young  fellow,  far  from  shared 
11 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

the  quiet  spirit  that  possessed  his  sister.  His 
work  finished,  he  was  away  to  the  village  where 
at  every  entertainment  he  was  the  center  of 
attraction,  his  merry,  contagious  laugh  reach- 
ing out  and  gathering  all  within  hearing  in  its 
irresistible  grasp.  His  friends  declared  him 
the  personification  of  good  fellowship;  and  he, 
with  his  love  of  the  crowd,  never  pretended  to 
fathom  why  his  beloved  sister  chose  the  cliff 
and  the  woods  of  the  island  instead  of  the  com- 
pany of  the  gay,  young  people  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill.  He  would  smooth  back  her  hair,  so 
full  of  the  yellow  which  the  sun  beat  upon  it, 
and  call  her  his  island  gypsy.  "It  is  lucky," 
he  would  say,  "that  there  is  no  island  bandit, 
for  he  certainly  would  search  out  your  solitary 
haunts  and  then  where  would  my  blue-eyed  lit- 
tle sister  be?"  And  laughing  he  would  add, 
1 1  Go  back  to  your  dreaming,  for  if  you  venture 
below  the  men  of  the  island  will  steal  you  from 
me,  my  own  true  lady  love,"  and  then  he  would 
kiss  her  and  hurry  away.  Tom  had  been  like 

12 


AN  ISLAND  GIRL 

this  all  her  life.    No  wonder  she  fancied  him 
as  one  with  the  spirit  of  the  knights  of  old. 

It  was  of  Tom  that  Vivian  was  thinking  to- 
day. Her  mind  refused  to  run  in  the  usual 
channel.  Of  late  stories  had  come  to  the  top 
of  the  hill  of  his  infatuation  for  a  girl  of  the 
village.  This  girl  was  a  stranger  to  the  island 
and  little  was  known  of  her  or  of  her  father,  who 
had  come  here  with  her  less  than  a  year  be- 
fore. The  father,  Louis  Manette,  had  rented  a 
small  farm  near  the  old  Mission  House  and  with 
his  daughter  had  become  part  of  the  life  of  the 
village.  They  had  not  been  on  the  island  long 
when  a  Jim  Hester  appeared  and  Manette 
hired  him  as  a  helper,  though  the  islanders, 
busy  with  the  details  of  their  neighbors'  affairs, 
as  small  communities  are  wont  to  be,  could 
scarcely  understand  why  he  should  need  an 
assistant  to  help  cultivate  his  few  acres. 
Manette  did  not  attempt  to  satisfy  current 
curiosity  and  little  could  be  gleaned  by  the  most 
inquisitive.  It  was  evident  to  those  who  knew 

13 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

the  type  that  Manette  was  a  French-Canadian ; 
and  aside  from  the  fact  that  he  condescended 
to  announce  he  had  come  to  the  island  prin- 
cipally for  his  health,  he  kept  his  lips  closed. 

Lettie  Manette  soon  became  a  part  of  the 
social  life  of  the  little  settlement.  She  in- 
herited the  dark  beauty  of  her  French  ancestry 
and  soon  the  young  men  were  assiduous  in  their 
efforts  to  please.  Mr.  Manette  was  not  slow 
to  let  it  be  known  that  this  appreciation  of  his 
daughter  was  unwelcome,  while  she  smiled  on 
none  until  she  met  Tom.  With  him  it  was  at 
once  different.  She  received  his  attentions 
with  a  pleasure  she  did  not  try  to  conceal  and 
this  while  her  father  fumed  and  forbade  Tom 
the  house.  The  news  of  this  disturbed  Vivian, 
who  could  not  understand  why  any  mortal 
should  antagonize  her  brother. 

Vivian  now  had  a  new  cause  for  alarm. 
Early  in  the  day  there  had  come  from  the  vil- 
lage, the  story  of  a  conflict  between  Louis 
Manette  and  her  brother.  Soon  after  Tom  had 

14 


AN  ISLAND  GIEL 

reached  the  dock  where  he  had  gone  in  the 
morning,  he  had  been  approached  by  Manette, 
who  was  plainly  resolved  on  making  trouble. 
Tom  had  every  reason  in  the  world  to  avoid 
anything  like  this  with  the  man  and  at  first 
tried  to  conciliate  him  with  fair  speech. 
Manette  was  not  to  be  put  off  by  kind  words 
and  persisted  in  his  offensive  behavior.  Tom 
would  not  be  provoked  and  turned  away.  As 
he  strode  along  the  dock,  he  heard  a  hurried 
step  coming  after  him,  and  then  a  cry  from 
those  about  him,  which  was  so  full  of  warning, 
that  it  could  not  be  disregarded.  He  turned 
quickly,  to  find  Louis  Manette  almost  upon  him, 
a  vicious  looking  knife  in  his  hand. 

Tom  sprang  to  one  side  just  as  the  knife 
which  his  enemy  held  quivering  above  him 
descended  with  a  wicked  thrust.  The  younger 
man's  eyes  blazed  with  anger,  and  grasping 
Manette  by  his  knife  arm,  he  demanded, 
''Would  you  kill  me?  Are  you  beside  your- 
self? I  could  throw  you  into  the  lake  with  a 

15 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

twist  of  my  wrist,  and  it  looks  as  if  you  needed 
the  water  to  cool  your  hot  blood."  He  re- 
leased his  hold  on  Manette  and  motioned  him 
away. 

It  needed  more  than  the  suggestion  of  water 
to  cool  his  blood,  for  no  sooner  was  the  older 
man  free,  than  he  sprang  again  at  Tom,  the 
knife  aimed  at  the  heart.  There  was  only  one 
thing  for  the  young  islander  to  do.  He 
knocked  Manette  down  and  wresting  the  knife 
from  him,  threw  it  into  the  lake.  This  was  the 
tale  the  gossip  had  brought  to  the  farmhouse. 

As  she  thought  of  these  things  Vivian  was 
possessed  with  a  vague  unrest.  The  surge  of 
the  waves  on  the  shore  was  surcharged  with 
unseen  disaster.  The  whisperings  in  the  tree 
tops  were  unhappy  in  their  portent.  Vivian 
had  loved  a  gray  day  on  the  lakes  when  the 
winds  came  driving  the  clouds  before  and  the 
waves  became  sheets  of  lead,  surmounted  with 
hoar  frost.  Somehow  this  was  different.  The 
dirge  of  the  waters  was  an  echo  of  the  uneasi- 

16 


AN  ISLAND  GIRL 

ness  in  her  breast  that  grew  as  the  groaning 
mid  the  trees  took  on  strength.  A  cloud  had 
passed  across  the  face  of  the  sun.  In  the  north 
a  breeze  had  sprung  up  and  the  moaning  in  the 
foliage  grew  louder.  She  understood  the 
language  of  them  all  but  never  in  her  life  be- 
fore had  they  spoken  to  her  like  this.  Her 
heart  grew  heavy  as  she  listened.  A  longing 
for  the  old  music  of  the  leaves  seized  her,  but 
the  storm  in  the  valley  below  only  grew  louder. 
She  strained  her  eyes  and  when  there  appeared 
a  tiny  speck  clambering  laboriously  up  the  side 
of  the  brown  hill  that  stretched  from  the  hill- 
side down  to  the  Mission  House,  she  sprang  to 
her  feet  and  held  her  heart. 

The  little  black  dot  was  struggling  up  the 
steep  as  if  in  desperate  haste.  As  the  minutes 
passed  it  took  the  form  of  a  man.  He  at  last 
reached  the  road  on  the  hill  and  was  then  hid 
from  sight  by  the  trees.  It  was  Tom,  she  was 
sure  of  it.  Almost  leaping  down  the  narrow 
pathway,  she  sprang  to  the  road  and  found  him 

17 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

still  coming  on  in  mad  haste.  He  reached  her, 
panting  with  his  exertion,  his  face  black  with 
despair,  his  eyes  eager  with  the  spirit  of  flight. 
Vivian  threw  her  arms  around  him  crying, 
"Tom,  Tom." 

"Vivian,"  he  said,  and  he  held  her  at  arm's 
length  looking  down  into  her  soul,  his  eyes 
speaking  his  agony,  "Vivian,  I  have  killed 
Louis  Manettel" 


18 


THE  ESCAPE 


VIVIAN'S   CLIFF 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   ESCAPE 

npHOUGH  Vivian  heard  the  words  of  her 
-*-  brother  as  distinctly  as  she  ever  heard  any- 
thing in  her  life  she  did  not  appear  to  grasp 
their  meaning.  She  stood  with  Tom  holding 
her  at  arm's  length  and  looking  down  into  her 
eyes,  his  form  trembling  with  an  unspeakable 
anguish. 

"Vivian,  do  you  hear?"  and  he  shook  her  al- 
most roughly,  "Vivian,  I  have  killed  Louis 
Manette. ' ' 

He  had  no  need  to  repeat  his  declaration. 
His  first  words  had  been  going  down  into  her 
soul,  into  the  very  depths  of  her  being.  She 
could  feel  the  despair  sink  down,  down,  and  it 
reached  to  every  part  of  her  and  enveloped  her 
soul  in  blackness.  Just  for  a  moment  there 

21 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

struggled  a  doubt.  She  would  not,  could  not 
believe  it ;  Tom  had  not  done  this,  but  his  fear- 
ful eyes  gave  the  lie  to  her  hope  and  she  knew 
the  frightful  thing  was  true.  And  with  the 
realization,  her  first  thought  was  not  of  how 
the  deed  had  been  done,  nor  anything  about  it 
but  of  her  brother's  safety.  So  she  spoke 
eagerly,  tremulously,  "Tom,  Tom,  you  must  get 
away  from  here,  you  must  get  away." 

"My  God,  Vivian,"  he  cried,  "I  don't  know 
what  to  do." 

"Tom,"  she  repeated  with  vehemence,  "you 
must  get  away,"  and  then  she  asked,  "Does — 
does  anybody  know?" 

"Not  yet,  but  they  will.  It  happened  this 
way." 

"There  is  no  time  to  tell  me  how  it  happened. 
There  is  only  time  for  one  thing,  and  that  for 
you  to  get  away.  Oh,  what  shall  we  do!"  and 
the  girl  wrung  her  hands  piteously. 

"Yes,  that  is  it,  what  to  do,"  said  Tom  bit- 
terly. "God,  to  think  that  I  should  ever  have 

22 


THE  ESCAPE 

the  blood  of  another  man  on  my  hands  and  be 
a  fugitive  from  the  law.  God!"  He  threw 
himself  on  the  bank  by  the  road  and  cried  out 
the  awful  tears  of  a  strong  man.  Vivian  was 
beside  him  in  an  instant,  her  arms  about  him, 
and  her  voice  quivering  with  a  sympathy  she 
could  scarcely  word,  so  deeply  was  she  her- 
self moved. 

"0  Tom,  my  Tom,"  she  sobbed,  "go  away, 
go  away." 

"But  where?"  he  cried. 

"Somewhere,  anywhere,  oh,  why  has  this 
trouble  come?" 

So  intent  had  the  brother  and  sister  been  that 
they  had  taken  no  note  of  the  approach,  of  a 
third  party  until  he  was  upon  them.  The  new- 
comer had  come  around  a  bend  in  the  road  from 
the  top  of  the  island.  He  was  leading  the 
horses  that  drew  a  rack  heavily  loaded  with 
hay. 

He  looked  with  open-eyed  wonder  at  the  un- 
usual sight  and  was  exclaiming  just  as  he  was 

23 


seen,  "Why,  Tom,  Vivian,  what  is  the  matter?" 
It  was  George  Thorpe,  who  from  boyhood  had 
been  Tom's  fast  friend  and  no  coming  could 
have  been  so  welcome. 

"Haven't  yon  heard  down  in  the  village?" 
asked  Tom. 

"Heard?    No,  what  is  the  matter?" 

"I  have  killed  Louis  Manette." 

Thorpe  paled.    ' '  Tom,  you  don 't  mean  that. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  have  killed  him.  Would  to  God  it 
were  not  true." 

Here  Vivian  broke  in  with  an  appeal  to  the 
young  farmer  who  had  been  one  of  the  few  of 
Tom's  friends  she  had  known,  "George,  help 
us,  help  us  get  him  away." 

"Get  away  or  not,"  interrupted  Tom,  "I 
must  tell  you  how  it  happened.  I  do  not  want 
you  to  believe  I  meant  to  do  it.  God  knows  I 
did  not.  I  must  tell  someone  or  I  shall  lose 
my  mind." 

Thorpe  was  deeply  stirred  and  he  said  gently, 
"Well,  Tom,  tell  us  quickly,  for  if  it  is  not 

24 


THE  ESCAPE 

known  in  the  village  I  suppose  it  soon  will  be 
and  when  we  know  your  story  we  will  know 
what  is  best  to  do." 

Tom  began,  '  *  You  know  of  my  love  for  Lettie 
Manette  and  my  trouble  with  her  father.  That 
has  been  the  talk  of  the  island  and  I  need 
not  go  into  that.  Well,  after  the  trouble  I  had 
earlier  in  the  morning,  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
I  would  go  and  see  Manette  and  see  if  he 
wouldn't  be  reasonable.  At  least  I  hoped  we 
might  arrive  at  some  understanding  so  that 
we  would  have  no  more  public*  brawls.  So 
I  went  to  the  house  and  there  found  Jim  Hester, 
the  hired  man,  who  said  that  Manette  was  in 
the  barn  and  that  Lettie  was  with  him.  I 
thought  that  perhaps  it  would  be  well  to  have 
the  talk  with  him  when  Lettie  was  present  and 
went  at  once  to  the  barn  where  I  found  him,  but 
Lettie  was  not  there.  He  was  very  much  ex- 
cited when  I  came  upon  him  and  I  surmised 
had  been  having  a  quarrel  with  Lettie.  I 
had  scarcely  reached  the  loft  where  he  was 

25 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

when  he  commenced  to  upbraid  me  in  the  most 
violent  language  and  would  not  listen  to  a  word 
I  had  to  say.  He  stung  me  so  that  I  replied  in 
kind  and  almost  before  I  knew  it  we  were  hav- 
ing a  desperate  struggle.  Several  blows  had 
passed,  when  one  that  I  gave  him  sent  him  stag- 
gering back,  and  before  I  could  save  him  he  fell 
through  the  trap  in  the  floor  and  went  to  the 
floor  below.  Horror-stricken  with  what  I  had 
done  I  stood  for  a  moment  and  thought  I  heard 
him  scrambling  to  his  feet  and  then  I  heard  him 
with  a  groan  fall  back  again.  I  ran  to  the  loft 
ladder  and,  descending,  found  him  dead  on  the 
floor.  In  his  breast  was  a  pitchfork  that  had 
pierced  his  heart.  He  must  have  fallen  on  it 
and  it  had  killed  him.  Almost  insane  I  rushed 
from  the  barn  and  came  here  as  fast  as  I  could 
come." 

"But,  Tom,"  said  George,  "this  throws  a 
new  light  on  the  case.  It  was  an  accident  that 
killed  him,  not  the  fall." 

"But  I  was  responsible  for  the  accident  and 
26 


THE  ESCAPE 

then  who  would  believe  me  ?  Everybody  knows 
of  the  trouble  we  had." 

Thorpe  turned  to  Vivian,  "What  do  you 
think  Tom  ought  to  do?  Shall  he  stay  and 
take  his  chances  or  shall  he  run  away?  You 
are  his  sister  and  I  think  your  advice  should 
have  some  weight  with  him." 

Vivian  hesitated  before  she  answered,  "I 
have  never  had  anything  like  this  to  decide  be- 
fore and  I  am  afraid  my  advice  will  be  mixed 
with  my  fears.  The  word  you  use,  'chance,' 
frightens  me.  I  do  not  want  Tom  to  take  any 
'chance'  with  injustice.  I  cannot  advise.  I 
must  leave  it  all  to  him." 

Thorpe  turned  to  Tom  again.  "Well,  old 
fellow,  it  seems  to  be  up  to  you.  What  do  you 
say?" 

Tom  looked  across  the  straits  with  unseeing 
eyes,  or  if  they  did  see,  it  was  some  faraway 
haven  of  safety  they  visualized  for  him.  He 
spoke  heavily,  "I  have  nothing  to  say  that  I 
have  not  said.  I  do  not  suppose  there  is  a  soul 

27 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

in  the  village  but  knows  of  the  attack  he  made 
on  me  early  this  morning.  When  his  dead 
body  is  found  in  the  barn  where  I  was  the  last 
to  see  him  alive,  who  will  believe  it  was  an 
accident?  "Who  will  take  my  word?" 

"It  does  look  bad,  and  the  dock  quarrel 
makes  it  worse.  If  you  think  best  to  get  away, 
I  will  help  you. ' ' 

"My  true  friend!"  cried  Tom,  embracing 
him,  while  Vivian  looked  a  piteous  joy  at  the 
offer  of  assistance. 

"We  must  act  quickly,"  added  George.  "In 
the  first  place  Hester  is  likely  to  go  to  the  barn 
and  find  the  body  and  he  is  no  friend  of  yours 
and  will  spread  the  news  quickly.  In  fact,  it 
is  said  that  he  only  engaged  himself  to  help 
Manette  because  he  was  your  rival  for  the 
daughter's  affections  and  wanted  to  be  near 
her.  Now,  I'll  tell  you  the  very  best  thing  to 
do.  Get  in  under  this  load  of  hay.  I  am  going 
over  to  St.  Ignace  and  this  is  the  safest  way  to 
carry  you  over.  When  the  south  bound  even- 

28 


THE  ESCAPE 

ing  freight  goes  through  St.  Ignace,  it  stops  at 
the  crossing.  It  will  be  easy  for  you  to  jump 
it  and  go  on  to  Chicago  without  being  discov- 
ered. Once  you  are  there,  you  must  make  plans 
for  yourself  but  you  will  have  a  good  start  and 
I  believe  you  can  get  away." 

"But  this  will  make  trouble  for  you, 
George." 

"Never  mind  me;  you  do  as  I  tell  you.  I'll 
warrant  to  get  you  through,  and  more  than 
that,  they  will  never  know  I  had  anything  to  do 
with  it.  Come,  get  under  the  hay  and  we'll  get 
a  good  start  on  them,  anyway." 

Tom  took  his  sister  in  his  arms  and  held  her 
for  a  moment.  Vivian  tried  to  be  brave,  realiz- 
ing that  her  brother  needed  all  the  encourage- 
ment she  could  give  him,  but  the  tears  would 
well  up  and  at  last  she  gave  way  and  crying 
bitterly,  let  all  her  weight  rest  against  him. 
George  plucked  him  by  the  sleeve.  He  placed 
his  sister  on  the  bank  and  leaping  upon  the  rack 
crawled  beneath  the  hay.  He  would  have  said 

29 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

good-by,  but  the  words  choked  him.  His  friend 
took  the  reins  and  drove  on.  Vivian  looked 
dumbly  after  the  wagon  as  it  drew  farther 
away  and  when  it  had  disappeared  in  the  dis- 
tance, she  threw  herself  on  the  grassy  mound 
and  cried  out  the  first  deep  sorrow  of  her  heart. 


30 


THE    ISLAND   DRIVE 


CHAPTER  in 

IN    THE    HANDS    OF    THE    LAW 

IN  after  years,  Vivian  never  could  recall  the 
incidents  of  her  journey  from  the  edge  of 
the  island  to  the  farmhouse  on  the  road  to  the 
British  Landing.  She  could  not  even  remem- 
ber when  she  arose  and  started  for  home.  In 
a  vague  way,  she  could  recollect  the  turmoil  and 
misery  that  existed  in  her  mind,  but  she  had 
given  no  thought  to  the  familiar  objects  of  the 
road  she  had  so  often  traversed.  Its  trees, 
bushes,  rocks,  pathways  and  flowers  were  less 
than  a  mere  mass  of  color  to  her,  they  were  not 
there  as  far  as  she  knew.  Her  light  feet  al- 
most flew  as  she  hurried  on,  panting  for  breath, 
a  fitful  sob  escaping  her  compressed  lips  every 
now  and  then,  her  hands  clutching  her  bosom 

33 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

in  sore  distraction,  as  if  seeking  to  soothe  the 
pain  that  was  welling  up  in  her  heart. 

Poor  Vivian,  her  life  had  been  so  free  from 
care  and  sorrow,  and  now  both  had  come  so  sud- 
denly, so  unexpectedly,  the  burden  was  heavy 
to  bear.  Her  tutors  had  been  the  trees  of  the 
island,  the  pounding  waves  that  beat  its  shores, 
the  whisperings  of  the  winds  that  swept  its 
wooded  heights,  the  majesty  of  the  rising  sun, 
the  glory  of  its  setting,  and  in  the  lessons  of 
beauty  and  peace  they  had  taught,  there  had 
been  no  preparation  for  such  an  hour  as  had 
now  come  into  her  life.  These  teachers,  even 
more  than  those  in  the  little  island  school,  had 
molded  her  into  what  she  was.  Their  lessons 
had  exalted  her  imagination  and  tenderly 
softened  the  mind  to  receive  the  impressions 
of  Mother  Nature; — they  had  not  taught  her 
of  the  harder  way  of  life  that  comes  in  some 
degree  to  every  mortal,  to  know  and  to  tread. 
Ever  before  when  Vivian  had  trod  this  road 
with  a  step  as  light  as  her  heart,  it  had  been 

34 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  LAW 

like  an  aisle  in  a  great  cathedral.  Its  tower- 
ing walls  of  living  green  had  been  a  benediction. 
The  spreading  beeches,  the  noble  maples  and 
pine,  the  fragrant  balsam,  the  dainty  birch,  the 
sturdy  cedar,  all  had  contributed  their  share 
in  glorifying  the  temple  whose  arch  was  formed 
by  the  overhanging  branches. 

But  now  she  sped  unthinking  of  these,  past 
all  the  old  familiar  scenes,  the  parade  grounds 
of  the  old  fort,  from  whose  parapets  she  had 
often  gazed  out  upon  the  straits,  Skull  Cave 
with  its  grewsome  memories,  the  three  little 
cemeteries  with  their  quaintly-inscribed  head- 
stones, the  battle  ground  where  her  forefathers 
had  fought  the  British ; — all  these  places  so  fa- 
miliar and  dear  to  her  were  now  forgotten. 

At  last  exhausted,  she  came  to  her  home. 
The  little  farmhouse  was  at  the  lower  edge  of 
the  place  where  the  Americans  and  British 
had  fought  the  memorable  battle  in  which  Ma- 
jor Holmes  had  fallen.  Part  of  this  battlefield 
was  now  on  Mr.  Summers'  farm.  The  farm 

35 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

was  one  of  the  few  on  the  island,  that  of  George 
Thorpe  being  across  the  way,  his  home  stand- 
ing a  little  further  up  the  road.  The  Thorpe 
family,  who  had  owned  their  farm  for  genera- 
tions, also  had  a  small  piece  of  land  in  an  al- 
most hidden  little  valley  that  ran  near  to  and 
below  Crooked  Tree  road.  It  was  from  the 
valley  farm  George  had  come  with  his  load  of 
hay  for  St.  Ignace. 

As  Vivian  approached  the  house  she  began 
to  realize  for  the  first  time  what  she  must  tell 
her  father  and  mother.  She  tried  to  compose 
herself  for  the  task,  knowing  full  well  how 
hard  the  blow  would  strike.  Her  parents  had 
known  little  happiness  in  life.  The  lot  of  an 
island  farmer  was  hard  and  brought  little  com- 
pensation. The  summers  were  short,  and  the 
rocky  soil  grudgingly  gave  up  the  fruits  that 
were  plucked  from  it.  Most  of  the  joy  the  Sum- 
mers had  had  in  life  had  come  from  their  chil- 
dren. Vivian  turned  the  knob  of  the  door  and 
entered.  She  had  scarcely  done  so  when  she 

36 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  LAW 

saw  that  others  had  anticipated  her,  and  that 
trouble  had  taken  wings  and  preceded  her. 

Her  father  was  standing  by  the  fireplace,  his 
gray  head  bowed,  his  face  in  his  hands.  Her 
mother  sat  by  the  window,  weeping.  In  the 
center  of  the  room  stood  Bob  Collins,  the  island 
constable,  and  near  him  was  his  deputy,  Elias 
Graves.  Vivian  stood  but  a  moment  in  the 
doorway,  surveying  this  scene,  and  then  was 
about  to  hurry  to  her  mother,  when  Collins 
stopped  her. 

"Where's  your  brother?"  he  demanded.  He 
stood  between  the  girl  and  her  mother,  and, 
without  answering,  Vivian  attempted  to  pass 
around  him  and  reach  her  mother,  who  had 
risen  to  her  feet.  Collins  seized  the  girl  by  the 
arm  and  said  roughly, ' '  See  here,  this  is  serious 
business;  where 's  your  brother?" 

Vivian  jerked  her  arm  away,  answering,  "I'll 
thank  you  to  keep  your  hands  off  me,  Kob  Col- 
lins." 

"Well,  I'm  satisfied  you  know  something 
37 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

about  him,  for  when  you  came  in  that  door  you 
plainly  showed  you  had  heard  of  his  killing  old 
Manette.  Now,  tell  me  where  he  is." 

The  constable  was  a  large  man,  and  the  sheer 
force  of  his  physical  presence  was  emphasized 
by  his  words,  which  did  not  lack  in  harshness 
in  their  manner  of  utterance.  Yet  in  the  frail, 
delicate  body  of  the  island  girl  there  lived  a 
soul  so  full  of  loyalty  to  those  she  loved  that, 
overawed  and  even  crushed  though  she  might 
be,  her  spirit  never  so  much  as  quivered  in  her 
inflexible  allegiance. 

"If  I  know  where  my  brother  is  you  may  be 
sure  I  shall  not  tell  you,"  she  said,  looking  Col- 
lins in  the  face. 

"What,"  roared  he,  "you  defy  the  law? 
Girl,  this  is  murder, — do  you  know  what  that 
means?  And  do  you  know  what  it  means  to 
hide  the  murderer  or  to  assist  him  to  escape? 
You'll  be  getting  yourself  into  hot  water." 

The  island  girl  grew  white  under  the  contin- 
38 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  LAW 

ued  browbeating  of  the  rude  official.  She  was 
not  used  to  ugly  words,  and  the  physical  pres- 
ence of  the  constable  as  well  as  the  brutality 
of  his  voice,  were  such  she  felt  like  shutting  her 
eyes  and  covering  her  ears,  that  she  might  as 
far  as  possible  blot  him  out  of  sight  and 
sound.  But  he  would  not  have  it  so.  It  was 
by  the  emphasizing  of  his  personality,  that  he 
had  been  wont  to  master  others.  Brute  force 
was  his  strongest  weapon  and  he  used  it,  when 
it  seemed  necessary,  to  the  naked  limit.  So  the 
ruffian,  with  his  harsh  words  uttered,  drew 
nearer  to  Vivian  and  reached  out,  as  if  he 
would  seize  her  and  shake  from  her  the  secret 
he  assumed  she  possessed. 

Vivian  drew  back  at  his  approach,  but  said 
not  a  word.  She  realized  that  words  would 
not  help  the  situation. 

Mr.  Summers  took  a  step  forward.  "Bob 
Collins,"  he  said,  "whatever  my  son  has  done, 
you  have  no  right  to  browbeat  Vivian.  You 

39 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

must  not  speak  to  her  that  way.  You  have 
searched  the  house,  and,  as  I  told  you,  my  boy 
is  not  here.  I'll  thank  you  to  go." 

"You  seem  to  forget,"  returned  Collins, "  that 
this  girl  has  given  every  evidence  of  having 
heard  of  the  crime.  Doubtless  she  learned  it 
from  the  lips  of  its  perpetrator;  for  Jim  Hes- 
ter, who  saw  him  leave  the  barn  before  the  kill- 
ing was  found  out,  says  he  came  up  to  the  top 
of  the  island ;  and  who  told  her  if  your  son  did 
not?"  He  turned  to  Vivian,  "I  am  going  to 
ask  you  once  more  where  he  is  hidden." 

"I  have  nothing  to  say,"  steadfastly  an- 
swered the  girl. 

"Well,  then,"  declared  the  constable,  "I  am 
going  to  arrest  you  as  accessary  after  the 
fact." 

At  this  declaration,  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sum- 
mers raised  their  voices  in  protestation,  but 
Vivian  uttered  not  a  word. 

"I'd  take  you  over  to  St.  Ignace  now,"  con- 
tinued Collins,  "but  I've  got  to  organize  a 

40 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  LAW 

posse  and  beat  up  the  island.  I'll  leave 
Graves  here  to  look  after  you  and  early  in  the 
morning  over  you'll  go." 

Mr.  Summers  again  protested,  "You  have  no 
right  to  do  this,  Collins.  You  are  taking  the 
law  in  your  own  hands  too  much. ' ' 

"See  here,  Ben  Summers,"  said  Collins, 
"murder  has  been  committed  and  that  is  no 
light  crime.  Now,  it  is  my  duty  to  capture  the 
culprit  and  everything  points  to  him  as  your 
son.  Put  one  finger  in  the  way  and  you  become 
culpable.  That  girl  knows  where  he  is.  She 
cannot  deny  it.  I  therefore  arrest  her.  Until 
to-morrow  she  can  be  kept  here.  Graves  shall 
stay  here  to  see  she  is  kept  secure.  But  as 
soon  as  morning  dawns  she  goes  to  St.  Ignace; 
and  let  me  see  you  trying  to  interfere  in  any 
way  and  you'll  go,  too.  Do  you  hear,  you'll  go, 
too!" 

Vivian,  who  had  listened  passively,  was  now 
taken  to  a  chamber  above  the  room  where  Col- 
lins so  roughly  asserted  himself,  and  thrust  in. 

41 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

She  heard  the  key  turn  in  the  lock  and  her  cap- 
tors descend  to  the  floor  below.  She  sank  on 
her  knees  by  the  bed  and  prayed  for  her  poor 
brother,  a  few  hours  before  so  light-hearted 
and  bright,  now  a  miserable  fugitive  from  the 
law. 


42 


THE  FLIGHT  FROM  THE  HOUSE 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  FLIGHT  FROM  THE  HOUSE 

r  I  TEE  room  in  which  Vivian  was  held  a  pris- 
-*-  oner  was  on  the  side  of  the  house  which 
overlooked  the  battlefield.  A  great  tree  stood 
so  near  the  house  that  its  leaves  brushed  against 
the  window  of  the  room,  though  one  could  look 
through  the  branches  and  see  the  road  as  it 
went  winding  up  over  the  hill.  It  was  a  simple, 
little  room,  Vivian's  own  room  in  fact,  and  the 
few  articles  of  furniture  it  contained  did  not 
crowd  it,  though  it  was  small. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  the  two 
officers  locked  the  door  that  made  Vivian  a  pris- 
oner, and  a  few  moments  later  she  heard  Col- 
lins leaving  the  house,  his  loud  voice  urging  the 
deputy  to  keep  good  watch  over  her.  Her 
thoughts  were  full  of  her  brother  and  the  possi- 
bility of  his  escape.  By  this  time,  Thorpe  must 

45 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

have  reached  the  mainland,  and  once  there,  the 
wide  world  was  open  for  the  fugitive. 

The  hours  passed  and  Vivian  at  length 
fell  asleep  on  the  little  bed,  though  even  in  her 
slumber  the  events  of  the  day  returned 
and  haunted  her  dreams.  As  in  her  wak- 
ing hours  she  had  had  no  fear  for  herself, 
so  now  her  mind  wandered  after  the  course  of 
her  wretched  brother.  As  she  dreamed  the 
guard  admitted  her  mother,  who  brought  some 
food,  which  she  placed  by  the  bed  without  awak- 
ening the  sleeper.  Even  in  her  sleep  the  tears 
were  trickling  down  her  cheeks  and  a  frequent 
sigh  of  unutterable  sadness  added  to  the  an- 
guish that  shook  the  frame  of  the  poor  mother. 
She  tenderly  kissed  the  cheek  of  her  sleeping 
daughter  and  quietly  left  the  room. 

"When  Vivian  awoke  it  was  late  in  the  night ; 
but  the  moonbeams  that  eluded  the  intervening 
branches  and  leaves  of  the  tree  and  came 
through  the  window,  were  bathing  her  bed  in 
light.  She  lay  quite  still  for  a  while,  going 

46 


THE  FLIGHT  FROM  THE  HOUSE 

over  in  her  waking  moments  the  thoughts  that 
had  occupied  the  hours  of  her  sleep.  A  loud 
knock  at  the  front  door  of  the  house  aroused 
her  from  her  lethargy,  and  she  heard  the  heavy 
tread  of  Graves  as  he  crossed  the  floor  beneath 
to  respond.  A  moment  later  she  heard  the 
voice  of  Collins  cutting  the  still  night  air,  evi- 
dently in  response  to  a  question  of  his  assistant. 

"No,  we  haven't  caught  him.  It  looks  as  if 
he  had  escaped  from  the  island  in  some  way; 
how,  I  can't  make  out,  for  we've  had  every 
point  watched." 

Vivian  drew  a  long  breath  of  joy  at  the  words 
of  the  constable.  It  was  certain  now  that  Tom 
was  far  distant ;  the  revulsion  of  feeling  almost 
made  her  happy. 

Graves  made  some  indistinct  answer  to  Col- 
lins, who  then  continued,  "They  appointed  the 
inquest  for  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  and 
when  we  get  the  girl  on  the  witness  stand  I 
rather  think  we  '11  worm  some  admission  out  of 
her  that'll  fasten  the  murder  on  her  brother 

47 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

beyond  a  doubt.  It's  clear  in  my  mind  she 
has  seen  him  since  the  morning  and  knows  all 
about  it.  When  the  coroner  gets  after  her, 
she'll  just  have  to  tell." 

For  the  first  time  it  dawned  upon  Vivian 
why  they  were  holding  her  a  prisoner.  They 
believed  that  Tom  had  confessed  to  her  and  in- 
tended to  force  his  words  from  her. 

A  trial  was  a  scene  from  another  world  than 
the  one  in  which  she  had  lived  and  the  thought 
of  being  placed  upon  a  witness  stand  and  un- 
dergoing the  ordeal  of  sharp  cross-questioning 
was  terrifying.  What  secret  might  not  an  offi- 
cer of  the  law  drag  from  her  unwilling  breast  at 
such  a  time.  The  law,  with  which  she  had  never 
had  aught  to  do,  was  a  stern  and  fearful  master 
to  her  mind.  She  felt  that  be  as  brave  as  she 
might,  she  could  not  trust  herself  to  be  tested 
by  its  relentless  demands.  And  so  the  first 
thought  of  flight  came  to  her  and  with  every 
moment  the  idea  that  she  must  get  beyond  the 
power  of  any  inquisitor  grew  upon  her. 

48 


THE  FLIGHT  FEOM  THE  HOUSE 

Once  the  thought  of  escape  seized  her  there 
was  no  hesitancy  at  the  project.  The  door 
being  locked  and  the  way  of  egress  barred  be- 
low, there  remained  only  the  window.  A  stout 
branch  of  the  tree  reaching  close  to  it,  offered 
a  chance  to  gain  the  trunk  and  thus  the  ground. 
To  one  as  agile  as  Vivian,  there  was  no  diffi- 
culty here,  the  only  danger  she  feared  being  the 
noise  that  such  a  venture  might  cause.  The 
two  men  had  entered  the  house  and  were  con- 
versing in  the  room  below.  The  necessity  of 
the  utmost  caution  was  realized  by  her,  and  she 
pushed  up  the  window  slowly  and  gently,  and  to 
her  relief,  without  so  much  as  making  a  single 
creak.  Climbing  upon  the  window-sill  she 
stood  upright  without,  leaning  forward  upon 
the  branch  which  was  less  than  two  feet  away. 
She  listened  for  a  moment  to  reassure  herself 
that  her  captors  had  not  been  disturbed,  and  as 
she  could  hear  their  voices  in  muffled  conversa- 
tion, she  took  courage.  Even  the  moon  seemed 
friendly  to  her  venture,  for  it  disappeared  be- 

49 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

hind  a  cloud.  Swinging  forward  with  all  possi- 
ble quietness  as  well  as  rapidity  Vivian 
reached  the  branch.  Carefully  assuring  her- 
self again  that  she  had  attracted  no  atten- 
tion, she  began  to  work  her  way  toward  the 
trunk  of  the  tree.  It  was  necessary  to  do  this 
slowly,  for  the  foliage  was  thick  and  the  break- 
ing of  a  twig  might  arouse  the  suspicions  of  the 
two  men.  And  so  with  infinite  care  she  at 
length  reached  the  body  of  the  tree.  Here  she 
could  not  refrain  from  a  sigh  of  relief;  for  to 
slide  to  the  ground  was  the  work  of  a  moment. 
Grasping  the  sides  of  the  maple,  she  quickly 
slipped  to  solid  earth.  Her  feet  had  scarcely 
touched  the  ground  when  she  was  seized  by 
someone  from  behind,  and  as  she  attempted  to 
scream  her  fright  a  hand  was  tightly  pressed 
over  her  lips.  Then  a  well-known  voice  whis- 
pered in  her  ear,  "Keep  still,  Vivian,  it's 
George  Thorpe." 


50 


A  REFUGE  IN  SUGAR  LOAF 


SUGAR   LOAF 


CHAPTER  V 

A  REFUGE  IN  SUGAR  LOAF 

another  word  was  spoken  until  Vivian, 
leaning  partially  on  Thorpe  for  support, 
had  reached  the  road  and  gone  part  way  up  the 
hill,  where,  breathless  from  her  exertion,  the 
girl  sat  down  by  the  roadside  to  recover  the 
possession  that  had  deserted  her  when  Thorpe 
had  so  suddenly  come  upon  her  as  she  descended 
the  tree.  Her  first  words  were  of  her  brother ; 
had  he  escaped,  was  he  safe,  could  they  capture 
him? 

The  young  farmer  strove  to  allay  her  agita- 
tion and  told  her  of  how,  unchallenged,  he  had 
reached  St.  Ignace  with  Tom  effectually  con- 
cealed beneath  the  hay,  where  he  had  remained 
until  they  had  reached  a  quiet  and  unfre- 
quented spot.  It  was  near  the  place  where  the 

53 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

trains  stopped  for  the  engines  to  take  up  water, 
and  Thorpe  had  reconnoitered  for  several  hours 
while  Tom  remained  in  concealment.  It  was 
after  dusk  before  an  opportunity  came,  but  at 
length  a  west-bound  freight  train  gave  them 
the  chance  they  so  anxiously  awaited,  and,  for- 
tunately finding  a  door  which  easily  pried  open, 
Tom  was  helped  aboard  by  his  loyal  friend  and 
a  few  minutes  later  was  being  carried  west- 
ward. Vivian  listened  to  all  this  with  avidity, 
forgetting  that  she  herself  was  a  fugitive  from 
the  law. 

"As  soon  as  I  could  dispose  of  the  hay,  and 
you  may  be  sure  I  didn't  haggle  about  the 
price,"  continued  Thorpe,  "I  hurried  back  to 
the  island.  I  had  scarcely  reached  the  village 
when  I  heard  of  your  arrest.  I  would  have 
come  to  the  house  at  once,  but  I  knew  it  would 
do  no  good,  while  it  would  probably  give  rise  to 
a  suspicion  that  I  had  assisted  Tom  to  get 
away.  As  soon  as  it  got  late  I  came,  and 
reached  here  just  as  Collins  entered  the  house. 

54 


A  REFUGE  IN  SUGAR  LOAF 

While  I  stood  under  the  tree,  wondering  how  I 
could  get  word  to  you  of  Tom's  escape,  and  so 
reassure  you,  I  was  surprised  by  your  advent 
from  the  window  and  descent  to  the  ground.  I 
could  not  call  to  you  before  you  descended  for 
fear  I  would  alarm  the  men  within.  So  I  let 
you  slide  into  my  arms.  Now,  what  is  the  next 
step?" 

' 'I  must  get  away  from  here.  They  are  going 
to  have  the  inquest  in  the  morning  and  try  to 
force  me  to  tell  what  I  know." 

"It's  going  to  be  harder  to  get  you  away 
than  Tom,  I  fear,"  said  Thorpe,  "besides,  is  it 
best  for  you  to  go  away?  Isn't  there  some 
other  plan?" 

"I  never  could  face  a  trial,"  cried  Vivian. 
"I  am  afraid  of  their  questions.  It  seems  im- 
possible for  them  to  drag  from  me  a  single  ad- 
mission of  what  I  know,  and  yet  I  fear,  I  fear." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a 
hoarse  cry  from  the  house,  and  looking  back, 
they  discovered  Collins  leaning  from  the  win- 

55 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

dow  through  which  Vivian  had  escaped.  He 
was  holding  a  lamp  above  his  head  and  as  he 
peered  into  the  branches  of  the  tree,  where  he 
evidently  expected  to  find  Vivian,  he  shouted 
loudly  for  his  deputy  to  come  to  his  assistance. 

The  commotion  at  the  house  urged  Thorpe 
and  Vivian  to  instant  resumption  of  flight  and 
they  hurried  up  the  road  and  over  the  hill. 
While  there  was  no  indication  that  they  were 
being  followed,  they  doubtless  soon  would  be, 
and  no  time  was  lost  by  them  in  putting  dis- 
tance between  themselves  and  the  farmhouse. 
Moreover,  it  was  important  that  Thorpe  should 
not  be  seen  with  her,  for  such  a  discovery  would 
add  to  the  complications. 

"I  must  get  some  place  to  conceal  you  until 
I  can  find  a  way  to  get  you  off  the  island,"  he 
whispered,  "but  where  it  will  be  is  more  than 
I  can  guess. " 

An  answer  to  his  problem  suddenly  loomed 
up  in  the  darkness.  "Sugar  Loaf!"  ejaculated 
Thorpe.  "It's  just  the  place  for  you  to  hide." 

56 


A  REFUGE  IN  SUGAR  LOAF 

Sugar  Loaf,  an  obelisk  of  corniferous  lime- 
stone, was  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  island. 
Rising  from  the  surrounding  ground,  its  rugged 
sides  of  calcareous  rock  spoke  of  an  age  when 
either  a  vast  upheaval  had  lifted  its  head  above 
its  fellows,  or  when  the  waters  of  the  lake  had 
covered  the  island,  and  as  they  sunk,  had  broken 
down  the  surrounding  masses  and  left  this  con- 
ical pyramid  standing  alone.  An  opening  some 
five  feet  above  the  ground  led  into  a  small 
room,  which  legend  recited,  had  been  the  wig- 
wam of  the  great  Manitou,  when  his  canoe  swept 
the  lake  and  his  red  children  dwelt  upon  the 
island. 

" Sugar  Loaf,"  said  Vivian,  rather  doubt- 
fully; "it  is  not  the  most  concealed  place  on  the 
island." 

"That  is  one  reason  why  they  won't  think 
of  you  choosing  it  as  a  hiding  place,"  replied 
Thorpe.  "It  is  not  a  likely  spot  for  one  to 
hide,  and  I  think  it  will  do  until  I  return.  That 
is,"  he  added,  "if  you  are  willing  to  try  it." 

57 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

"Of  course,  I  will  if  you  think  best,  but  I 
cannot  help  fear  that  those  men  will  find  me 
here.  You  will  hurry  back,  won't  you?" 

"I'll  be  back  before  daybreak,"  reassured 
Thorpe,  "and  I  think  there  is  little  danger  of 
their  searching  here.  At  any  rate,  not  before 
then.  I  am  going  to  try  and  get  a  boat  and 
row  you  over  to  the  mainland,  and  that  must  be 
done  before  the  alarm  is  general." 

Vivian  consented  to  the  arrangement  without 
further  comment.  Her  mind  was  full  of  the 
present  task  of  escaping  the  inquisition  of  the 
coroner.  For  the  future  she  had  no  plans  and 
indeed  gave  it  no  thought.  With  Thorpe's  as- 
sistance she  was  soon  in  the  little  stony  aper- 
ture. With  a  few  comforting  words  and  prom- 
ises of  speedy  return,  Thorpe  left  her,  and  the 
girl,  now  thoroughly  exhausted,  overcome  with 
fatigue  and  worry,  soon  fell  asleep  on  the  hard 
floor  of  her  place  of  refuge. 

Her  companion  hastened  toward  the  village, 
where  he  hoped  to  secure  either  a  sail  or  row- 

58 


A  REFUGE  IN  SUGAR  LOAF 

boat  and  without  discovery  carry  the  fleeing  girl 
to  the  mainland.  Nor  did  he  intend  to  leave 
her  there  to  shift  for  herself,  but  rather  to  stay 
by  her  side  until  he  had  found  a  place  of  safety 
and  comfort,  where  unmolested  she  might  se- 
curely stay  until  the  worst  of  the  trouble  had 
passed  and  a  way  for  the  future  had  opened. 

George  Thorpe  had  never  told  Vivian  that  he 
loved  her,  while  she,  having  had  his  friendship 
all  her  life,  had  never  thought  or  dreamed  that 
the  boy  who  had  been  her  brother's  chum  and 
her  own  playmate,  even  in  her  earliest  memory, 
had  for  a  long  time  been  determined  to  win  her 
affection.  The  young  farmer  was  five  years 
older  than  Vivian,  and  when  he  found  the  affec- 
tion of  his  youth  turning  into  love,  he  had  de- 
termined to  wait  until  he  was  sure  of  her  heart 
before  speaking  for  it.  His  loyalty  to  Tom 
was  nothing  new.  As  boys  and  young  men, 
they  were  known  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
island  as  fast  friends.  George  was  quieter  and 
less  fond  of  the  little  gayeties  of  the  village 

59 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

than  Tom,  but  lie  was  every  bit  as  sturdy.  His 
parents  had  died  when  he  was  young,  and  his 
patrimony  was  a  farm  which,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  Summers  farm  and  a  few  other 
pieces  of  land,  took  up  nearly  every  bit  of  farm 
land  on  the  island.  The  responsibility  of  man- 
aging and  caring  for  this  property  gave  him 
less  time  than  most  young  men  of  the  island 
for  the  society  of  his  fellows. 

For  a  time  we  will  leave  Vivian  slumbering 
in  the  recesses  of  the  great  rock,  and  George 
Thorpe  in  his  search  for  a  means  of  flight  from 
the  island,  and  return  to  the  worthy  constable 
Collins  and  his  equally  estimable  coadjutor,  Mr. 
Graves.  When  Collins,  who  was  essentially  of 
a  suspicious  nature,  had  ascended  the  stairs  of 
the  farmhouse  and  opened  the  door  to  his  pris- 
oner's room,  to  make  sure  of  her  presence,  he 
found  that  the  doubt  in  which  he  really  had  no 
faith  was  a  truth — the  girl  was  gone.  It  was  a 
moment  before  he  could  grasp  the  fact,  for  on 
the  ability  of  the  coroner  to  wrest  all  that  Viv- 

60 


A  EEFUGE  IN  SUGAR  LOAF 

ian  knew  from  her  unwilling  lips,  Collins  had 
built  up  all  his  hopes  of  conclusive  evidence 
against  Tom.  In  his  mind  he  had  pictured  a 
timid  girl  writhing  under  the  keen  cross-ques- 
tioning of  the  law  and  always  in  the  picture 
there  came  the  personal  triumph  and  vindica- 
tion for  Vivian's  arrest,  which  he  had  already 
found  did  not  meet  with  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
the  islanders.  They  had  even  laughed  at  him 
because  the  brother  had  outwitted  him  and  es- 
caped ;  and  now  to  have  the  sister  do  the  same 
thing  was  a  cruel  blow  to  his  vanity.  The  open 
window  revealed  the  way  his  prisoner  had  gone, 
and  holding  the  lamp  he  carried  high  above 
his  head  he  reached  far  out  of  the  window, 
eagerly  scanning  the  branches  of  the  trees  in 
evident  hope  of  finding  the  girl  clinging  to  them, 
while  he  lifted  his  voice  in  high  clamor  for  the 
recreant  Graves,  whom  he  was  now  prepared  to 
blame  and  curse  for  the  escape. 

His  shouts  not  only  brought  the  deputy,  but 
also  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Summers,  who  came  wonder- 

61 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

ing  what  new  calamity  had  befallen  them.  The 
sharp  questioning  of  the  constable  soon  re- 
vealed that  neither  of  the  old  people  had  any 
hand  in  this  startling  sequel  to  the  day's  doings, 
or  that  they  even  had  any  knowledge  of  it.  Col- 
lins was  not  satisfied,  however,  until  he  had 
searched  the  house  carefully,  and  when  he  and 
Graves  had  finished  this  task,  he  growled  out, 
"Well,  Tom  Summers  is  here  on  the  island  yet 
and  has  helped  the  girl  in  this;  for  she  never 
would  have  had  nerve  to  do  it  all  by  herself. ' ' 

"Where  do  you  suppose  they're  hiding?" 
ventured  Graves,  who  was  considerably  crest- 
fallen by  the  escape,  which  Collins  laid  en- 
tirely at  his  door,  claiming  it  must  have  hap- 
pened before  his  return  to  the  house. 

"  Somewhere  on  the  island,  and  it  proves  just 
what  I've  thought  all  along,  that  Summers 
wasn't  able  to  find  a  way  off.  Well,  he  can't 
get  far  with  that  girl  on  his  hands  and  I'm  for 
starting  right  in  and  trailing  them  down." 

Graves  objected  to  this,  saying  that  it  was 
62 


A  EEFUGE  IN  SUGAR  LOAF 

best  to  go  over  to  the  village  and  organize  a 
party. 

"What!  And  let  them  know  the  girl  has 
slipped  through  our  hands  ?  Not  if  I  know  my- 
self. You  come  along." 

Graves  was  a  wretched  creature,  who  had 
been  badgered  by  Collins  so  long  that  he  no 
more  had  the  will  to  resent  his  domineering 
and  he  followed,  hoping  by  a  ready  obedience 
to  escape  further  abuse. 

All  the  rest  of  the  night  the  two  men  scoured 
the  top  of  the  island  in  search  of  their  prey. 
Collins  was  indefatigable  and  Graves,  cringing 
under  the  reproofs  that  constantly  poured  from 
his  superior's  lips,  closed  his  teeth  tightly  and 
lent  every  aid  in  his  hope  that  he  might  redeem 
himself.  Just  as  the  stars  began  to  go  out  and 
the  first  tinge  of  morning  gray  came  across  the 
sky,  the  two  came  to  the  little  opening  in  the 
woods  where,  like  a  sentinel,  the  Sugar  Loaf 
stood.  Worn  out  with  their  labors,  they  both 
threw  themselves  on  the  ground  at  its  base  and 

63 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

Collins,  completely  letting  go  of  his  patience, 
rent  the  air  with  curses  loud  and  long  at  their 
ill  fortune. 


64 


VIVIAN  OUTWITS  HER  PURSUERS 


CHAPTER  VI 

VIVIAN   OUTWITS   HEB   PURSUERS 


slumbered  heavily,  unmindful  of 
»  the  passing  hours  and  the  delayed  return 
of  her  companion,  all  the  time  her  pursuers 
were  steadily  approaching  her  place  of  refuge. 
Undisturbed,  it  is  probable  she  would  have 
slept  through  the  day  just  breaking,  but  she 
was  suddenly  brought  back  to  consciousness  by 
the  sound  of  harsh  tones,  and  awoke  to  find  that 
the  men  whom  she  sought  to  elude  were  at  the 
very  door  of  her  hiding  place.  She  recognized 
their  voices  at  once,  and  for  the  moment  be- 
lieved she  was  discovered.  Then  realizing  that 
they  had  not  traced  her  to  her  place  of  hiding, 
but  had  come  upon  it  by  accident,  she  took  hope, 
Chinking  that  they  might  continue  on  their  way 

67 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

without  coming  into  the  little  apartment  of  the 
rock. 

This  apartment,  which  scarcely  allowed 
a  person  to  stand  erect,  was  but  a  few  feet 
square  in  space,  and  afforded  no  place  of  con- 
cealment if  these  men  should  come  in.  It  was 
possible  that  Thorpe  might  return,  and,  recog- 
nizing the  situation,  would  lead  the  men  away. 
Vivian  was  to  be  disappointed  in  this,  for  she 
heard  Collins  complaining  of  the  chill  of  the 
morning  and  declaring  he  was  going  to 
enter  the  chamber  where  she  was  hiding,  in 
search  of  more  comfort.  Catching  hold  of  the 
bottom  of  the  entrance,  he  prepared  to  lift  him- 
self up  and  in,  and  his  head  and  shoulders  were 
already  darkening  the  doorway,  when  Vivian 
sprang  forward  and  pushed  him  back  to  the 
ground.  The  attack  was  so  unexpected  that  she 
caught  him  completely  unawares  and  he  fell 
over  Graves,  who  was  back  of  him,  and  knock- 
ing that  worthy  over,  they  rolled  together  to 
the  foot  of  the  little  hill,  both  of  them  speech- 

68 


VIVIAN  OUTWITS  HER  PURSUERS 

less  with  surprise.  They  were  not  long  in  get- 
ting to  their  feet  and  turned  once  more  toward 
the  rock  to  find  Vivian  standing  in  the  opening. 
About  the  floor  of  the  little  room  were  bits  of  the 
structure  which  had  fallen  from  time  to  time 
from  the  loosely-woven  limestone  and  the 
largest  of  these  she  had  seized  and  was  holding 
it  high  above  her  head.  The  use  she  meant  to 
put  to  it  was  plainly  evident  to  the  men  and 
they  hesitated  in  their  advance. 

"You're  caught,  you're  caught,"  cried  Col- 
lins, who,  despite  his  mishap,  was  delighted  to 
find  his  game  in  so  sure  a  trap.  "You're 
caught  and  you  might  as  well  give  up. ' ' 

"Come  down  out  of  that,"  seconded  Graves, 
"or  we'll  fetch  you  out." 

"Just  you  try,"  replied  Vivian  defiantly; 
"just  you  try  and  you'll  feel  this  rock  against 
your  head." 

"Now,  see  here,"  coaxed  the  constable, 
"you're  not  gaining  anything  by  this.  We've 
got  you  and  you  might  as  well  come  along." 

69 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

With  the  words  he  started  toward  her.  The 
rock  quivered  in  the  air  above  his  head  and 
thinking  better  of  it  he  retreated. 

"Lookee,"  cried  Graves,  "if  she  can  use 
rocks,  why  can't  we?" 

The  constable  welcomed  this  suggestion  with 
delight  and  the  two  men  scurried  about  the 
road  gathering  up  stones,  while  Vivian,  alarmed 
at  the  turn  affairs  had  taken,  disappeared  with- 
in the  cavity.  It  looked  as  if  she  was  to  be 
captured  at  last,  when  suddenly  her  anxious 
mind  remembered  that  in  a  slant  of  the  wall  be- 
hind her  there  was  a  large  crevice  which  led 
out  to  an  opening  in  the  other  side  of  the  rock. 
Few  knew  of  this  crevice,  for  the  opening  was 
concealed  on  the  inside  by  a  ledge  which  jutted 
out  before  it  and  the  approach  from  without 
was  close  to  a  precipitous  side  of  Sugar  Loaf 
which  faced  a  dense  wood  and  was  known  to 
only  a  few.  If  this  opening  had  been  larger,  it 
would  probably  have  been  better  known,  but  it 
was  so  small  that  she  had  never  known  of  any- 

70 


VIVIAN  OUTWITS  HER  PURSUERS 

one  attempting  to  get  through  it;  and  yet,  in 
this  moment  of  her  need,  she  felt  that  by  this  ave- 
nue was  her  only  way  of  escape.  She  dislodged 
a  loose  stone  which  had  fallen  into  the  mouth  of 
the  crevice,  and,  without  stopping  to  question 
her  ability  to  get  through  the  narrow  passage 
which  led  to  the  outer  world,  she  rapidly  strug- 
gled into  the  opening  and  wrenched  her  way 
along.  It  was  only  a  few  feet,  and  yet  on  a  less 
urgent  occasion  the  task  would  have  appalled 
her,  but  she  already  heard  the  rattling  of  the 
first  stones  into  the  chamber  she  had  just  left, 
and  the  terrors  of  capture  added  to  the  strength 
with  which  she  literally  wormed  herself  on  and 
on  and  out  into  the  open. 

If  her  enemies  had  not  been  afraid  of  the 
blow  they  believed  waiting  for  them  in  the 
room  she  had  left,  she  would  never  have  had  the 
time  to  have  made  her  escape.  It  was  this 
fear  holding  them  back  that  gave  her  time 
and  she  soon  was  on  the  opposite  face  of  the 
rock,  from  which  she  softly  slid  down  into 

71 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

the  bushes  and  upon  the  rocks  below.  Her 
dress  had  been  reduced  to  ribbons  in  her  strug- 
gle through  the  passage  and  numerous  bruises 
showed  themselves  on  the  soft  skin ;  but  taking 
little  note  of  this,  she  fled  into  the  welcoming 
forest,  whose  every  byway  she  knew  so  well. 

Meanwhile,  the  men  on  the  other  side  of  the 
rock,  encouraged  by  no  indications  of  resistance 
to  their  bombardment,  advanced  nearer  to  the 
cave  and  listened.  Hearing  no  sound,  they  be- 
lieved one  of  their  stones  had  taken  effect  and 
struck  their  victim  senseless.  Venturing  nearer 
and  still  meeting  with  no  opposition  they  at 
length  lifted  themselves  into  the  cave.  For  the 
second  time  that  day  they  were  speechless,  gaz- 
ing at  each  other  in  amazement. 


72 


AT  THE  OLD  FOET 


CHAPTEE  VII 

AT   THE   OLD   FOBT 

WHEN  Thorpe  left  Vivian  in  Sugar  Loaf, 
secure  from  discovery  as  he  believed,  he 
lost  no  time  in  covering  the  ground  between 
her  place  of  hiding  and  the  old  fort  on  the  brow 
of  the  island,  from  whose  heights  he  intended 
to  make  his  way  to  the  village.  There  he  hoped 
most  speedily  to  discover  a  means  of  transit  to 
the  mainland  for  his  charge.  Several  of  his 
friends  had  light  craft,  which  he  felt  at  liberty 
to  take,  though  now  he  was  anxious  surrepti- 
tiously to  make  use  of  their  property,  for  if 
they  knew  of  his  voyage  across  the  straits  at 
such  an  unusual  hour,  embarrassing  questions 
were  sure  to  follow.  It  was  considerably  past 
midnight.  He  knew  that  to  make  the  journey 
and  succeed  in  returning  the  boat  without  dis- 

75 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

covery  before  daybreak,  he  would  be  obliged  to 
work  rapidly.  The  promise  of  rough  weather 
which  the  day  now  past  had  held  out  had  not 
been  fulfilled.  Every  cloud  had  vanished  from 
the  sky,  which  was  gemmed  with  stars,  while 
the  moon,  drawing  aside  the  dark  curtain  of  the 
night,  lighted  his  pathway  between  the  long 
aisles  of  the  trees  with  a  mellow  radiance. 

When  Thorpe  reached  the  fort  grounds,  he 
paused  a  moment  to  wipe  the  perspiration  from 
his  brow,  for  though  the  night  was  cool,  his 
rapid  pace  had  made  itself  felt.  From  the  road 
where  he  stopped  there  were  two  ways  to  the 
winding  stairs  by  which  he  meant  to  descend 
to  the  village.  One  of  these  was  across  the  pa- 
rade grounds  to  the  rear  of  the  row  of  the  old 
army  buildings.  The  other  was  by  a  narrow 
path  which  led  directly  to  the  edge  of  the  forti- 
fications and  across  the  verandas  fronting  the 
buildings  and  extended  to  the  railings  which 
rose  from  the  sheer  front  of  the  cliff,  prevent- 
ing the  careless  stroller  from  toppling  over  to 

76 


AT  THE  OLD  FOET 

the  rock-strewn  hill  beneath.  He  chose  the  lat- 
ter way,  for  he  wished  to  use  the  wide  survey  of 
the  island  and  lakes  to  see  if  any  were  astir 
who  might  interrupt  him  in  his  mission. 

As  he  stepped  upon  the  veranda  and  gazed 
out  on  the  inland  seas,  what  a  sight  was  spread 
out  before  him.  No  song  was  upon  the  lips  of 
the  quiet  waters  to-night,  but  unruffled  they 
stretched  in  a  majestic  blue  to  right  and  left. 
Across  the  straits  the  green  of  Bois  Blanc  rose 
from  the  waters,  the  sands  of  its  uninhabited 
shores  gleaming  in  the  soft  moonlight  and 
adding  to  the  calm  that  seemed  to  envelope  all 
the  unfathomable  world.  The  white  light  of  the 
stars  lent  a  serenity  to  the  brooding  stillness. 

Thorpe  silently  marveled  at  this  scene,  often 
beheld  before,  and  which  always  held  him  in  its 
spell.  His  mind  fevered  with  the  anxieties  of 
the  past  hours  was  rested  by  the  loveliness  his 
eye  drank  in.  He  looked  up  into  the  studded 
sky  and  its  haunting  beauty  cooled  the  fevers 
of  his  soul.  For  a  moment  he  pondered  on  the 

77 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

significance  of  the  stars,  feeling  if  he  could  only 
pierce  their  depths  he  might  there  find  the  mys- 
tery of  life.  It  all  conspired  to  strengthen 
him  in  his  duty  to  his  friends.  This  was  what 
life  was  for,  to  give  loyally  to  your  beloved. 

He  made  his  way  across  the  planks  that 
formed  the  walk  and  had  all  but  reached  the 
end  of  the  farthest  building  when  he  came  upon 
a  woman.  She  was  kneeling,  her  arms  resting 
upon  the  railing,  her  gaze  fastened  upon  the 
waters.  His  step  aroused  her  almost  as  soon 
as  he  discovered  her  presence  and  she  sprang 
up  and  faced  him.  It  was  Lettie  Manette. 
Never  had  the  young  French-Canadian  girl's 
comeliness  been  more  striking  than  now,  when 
it  was  evident  that  she  was  being  stirred  by 
the  strongest  emotions.  Her  dark  beauty 
shone  forth  in  the  distress  that  possessed  her, 
her  bosom  heaving  in  convulsive  agony,  her 
eyes  wet  with  the  tears  she  had  been  shedding. 
Nor  was  Thorpe  surprised  at  this,  for  if  woman 
must  needs  weep,  surely  the  death  of  a  father 

78 


AT  THE  OLD  FOET 

at  the  hand  of  a  lover  may  be  deemed  sufficient 
cause.  He  had  known  Lettie  as  a  strong,  de- 
termined girl,  considered  by  many  far  too  self- 
willed.  She  was  undoubtedly  of  remarkable 
firmness  of  purpose  and  resoluteness  of  will. 
This  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  seen  her 
melted  and  again  he  was  not  surprised,  for  the 
adversity  of  the  last  few  hours  might  well  have 
softened  a  heart  of  iron.  Thorpe  had  believed 
that  the  favor  she  bestowed  on  Tom  was  gen- 
uine, not  only  because  her  other  suitors  had  all 
been  given  so  short  a  shrift,  but  because  she  had 
continued  this  favor  in  the  face  of  her  father's 
opposition,  and  those  who  came  in  touch  with 
Louis  Manette  were  easily  convinced  he  was  a 
hard  man  to  thwart. 

Lettie  recognized  Thorpe  at  once  and  ex- 
claimed, "Tell  me,  where  is  Tom?  I  must  see 
him!" 

Thorpe  hesitated  before  he  replied.  He  did 
not  wish  to  complicate  matters  by  revealing  the 
part  he  had  taken  in  his  friend's  escape,  and  he 

79 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

also  feared  that,  though  Tom  had  had  the  girl's 
heart",  if  she  once  succeeded  in  tracing  him 
she  would  not  hesitate  to  turn  her  father's 
slayer  over  to  the  law. 

While  he  was  thus  pondering,  she  grasped 
him  by  the  arm  and  exclaimed,  "You  are  his 
friend,  you  must  know  where  he  is.  Tell 
me." 

"Even  if  I  know  where  Tom^is,"  replied 
Thorpe,  "nothing  but  evil  could  come  of  my 
telling  you.  Don 't  you  see  that  ? ' ' 

"Ah,  Mr.  Thorpe,  you  do  not  understand. 
It  is  imperative  that  I  see  him.  You  must  tell 
me." 

"My  poor  girl,"  said  Thorpe,  "you  are  dis- 
tracted by  the  sad  events  of  the  day.  Let  me 
urge  you  to  return  to  your  home.  You  need 
rest  for  your  body  and  mind." 

"My  God!"  cried  the  girl,  "I  can  never  go 
home,  I  can  never  go  anywhere  until  I  have 
seen  Tom.  Oh,  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Thorpe,  my 
wish  is  to  do  him  no  harm.  I  have  something 

80 


AT  THE  OLD  FOET 

I  must  tell  him.  Something  he  must  know. 
Oh,  I  beg  of  you,  take  me  to  him. ' ' 

With  her  last  words,  the  excited  girl  sank  to 
her  knees  and  supplicated  with  outstretched 
hands. 

Thorpe  was  deeply  moved  by  her  distress  and 
raising  her  from  the  ground  placed  her  on  a 
bench  that  ran  along  the  side  of  the  house.  He 
tried  to  soothe  her  with  comforting  words,  only 
to  be  met  again  and  again  with  the  plea  to  tell 
of  Tom's  whereabouts.  His  efforts  to  quiet  her 
being  unavailing,  he  said  at  length,  "Lettie,  if  I 
must  trust  you  with  a  secret  I  should  keep  in 
my  own  breast,  let  it  be  sufficient  for  you  to 
know  he  is  far  from  here.  In  truth,  I  can  tell 
you  no  more,  for  his  course  is  as  unknown  to 
me  as  it  is  to  you." 

The  girl  staggered  to  her  feet  exclaiming, 
"If  this  is  so,  I  must  go  and  search  all  the 
world  for  him.  I  must  not  wait,  I  must  go  at 
once." 

Thorpe,  appalled  by  her  earnestness,  cried, 
81 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

"TVhat  is  this  for?  Surely,  I  hope,  not  for  re- 
venge. ' ' 

"Revenge!"  cried  Lettie,  and  her  form 
shook  with  suppressed  emotion,  "Revenge! 
Ah,  how  little  you  know.  It  is  for  love." 

"Even  then,"  urged  Thorpe,  "you  cannot 
leave  the  island  now.  Why,  your  father  is  not 
buried  yet." 

"I  leave  the  island  at  once.  The  dead  can- 
not stop  me.  Nothing  can  stop  me.  I  have  a 
duty  to  the  living." 

The  girl  became  more  like  her  usual  self  as 
she  uttered  these  words,  the  meaning  of  which 
was  fraught  with  mystery  to  her  companion. 
She  led  the  way  toward  the  foot  of  the  hill  with 
Thorpe  following.  She  spoke  no  more  to  him 
and  when  they  reached  the  road  that  ran  along 
the  edge  of  the  island,  without  a  word  of  fare- 
well she  darted  away  in  the  direction  of  her 
home  and  was  soon  lost  from  the  strained  gaze 
of  Thorpe,  who  hesitated  between  following  her, 
to  seek  an  interpretation  of  her  words,  or  to 

82 


AT  THE  OLD  FORT 

continue  in  his  search  for  a  boat.  He  decided 
on  the  latter,  though  some  intuition  struggling 
in  his  mind  told  him  that  the  meaning  of  what 
the  girl  had  said,  if  known,  would  be  of  no  small 
moment. 

His  search  for  a  small  craft  proved  a  more 
difficult  task  than  he  had  anticipated.  He  went 
to  nook  after  nook  where  he  knew  friends  kept 
their  boats,  but  either  they  had  taken  them  and 
were  away  on  some  fishing  trip,  or  they  were 
so  securely  chained  that  an  attempt  to  break 
the  lock  would  have  been  sure  to  attract  the 
attention  he  was  so  anxious  to  avoid. 

The  first  glimmer  of  light  was  beginning  to 
tinge  the  eastern  sky  before  he  was  successful 
in  his  quest,  and  {hen  he  found  a  dingey  whose 
seaworthiness  was  far  from  promising.  He 
felt  too  much  time  had  already  been  lost  to  war- 
rant him  in  seeking  further,  in  fact  he  began 
to  be  doubtful  if  it  were  not  already  too  late  to 
get  Vivian  from  the  island  that  day. 

While  these  thoughts  were  troubling  him  he 
83 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

was  not  losing  any  time  by  stopping  to  meditate 
over  them,  and  the  boat  was  already  pushing  its 
prow  through  the  water  under  his  steady  and 
swift  pull  at  the  oars.  He  had  carefully  con- 
sidered the  best  point  to  get  Vivian  off  the  is- 
land and  had  decided  to  make  the  venture  at 
Arch  Rock.  This  place  was  one  of  the  wonders 
of  the  island,  a  great  mass  of  calcareous  stone 
towering  above  the  bank,  along  whose  side  was 
a  precipitous  pathway.  At  this  time  of  the  day 
it  was  unlikely  to  be  frequented,  while  its  near- 
ness to  Sugar  Loaf  was  a  recommendation. 
Ten  minutes  after  he  had  secured  the  boat  at 
this  point  on  the  shore  he  came  upon  Sugar 
Loaf.  There  at  the  opening  to  Vivian 's  hiding 
place  he  found  the  officers  of  the  law,  madly 
gesticulating  and  filling  the  air  with  acrimoni- 
ous cries. 


84 


THE  EESULT  OF  THE  INQUEST 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  RESULT  OF  THE  INQUEST 

WHEN  Thorpe  found  Collins  and  Graves 
storming  at  Sugar  Loaf,  their  actions 
made  it  clear  to  him  that  though  they  had  seen 
Vivian  she  had  escaped  them  in  some  way. 
Their  words  verified  this,  for  they  were  in- 
dulging in  recriminations,  each  trying  to  throw 
upon  the  other  the  blame  for  their  ill-fortune. 
Before  acquainting  them  with  his  presence,  for 
they  were  too  enraged  to  notice  anybody, 
Thorpe  had  ample  time  to  collect  himself,  and 
then,  leisurely  sauntering  forward,  he  asked 
what  all  the  trouble  was  about.  Collins,  with- 
out replying  to  the  question,  eagerly  asked  if 
he  had  seen  the  Summers  girl. 

"The     Summers     girl?"     replied     Thorpe. 
"Why,  I  heard  that  you  had  her  under  arrest." 

87 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

"We  did  that,"  asserted  the  constable,  "but 
she  has  given  us  the  slip.  We  thought  we  had 
her  a  while  ago,  for  we  found  her  hiding  here 
in  Sugar  Loaf." 

"Hiding  in  Sugar  Loaf,"  echoed  Thorpe, 
"and  how  on  earth  did  she  get  away  from  you, 
if  you  had  her  cornered  in  Sugar  Loaf!" 

"The  young  wildcat  kept  us  away  with  rocks 
and  when  we  went  to  the  road  to  gather  some 
rocks  ourselves  and  play  her  at  her  own  game, 
I'll  be  blowed  if  she  didn't  slip  out  under  our 
very  eyes  and  get  away.  Thunderation,  I  don't 
see  how  she  did  it." 

"I  know  well  enough  how  she  did  it,"  growled 
Graves,  "there's  no  question  about  that;  she's 
in  league  with  the  devil." 

"Enough  from  you,"  snarled  his  superior; 
"I  sometimes  think  she's  in  league  with  you, 
for  I  blame  you  for  her  escape." 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  do  now!" 
queried  Thorpe. 

"There's  no  use  trying  to  find  her  now,  and 


EESULT  OF  THE  INQUEST 

I  haven't  had  a  wink  of  sleep  or  scarcely  a  bite 
for  twenty-four  hours.  I'm  going  back  to  the 
village." 

With  a  brief  good-by,  Collins,  followed  by  the 
crestfallen  Graves,  strode  away  toward  the 
town,  leaving  Thorpe  meditating  over  the  new 
turn  affairs  had  taken.  He  was  as  mystified 
as  were  the  two  men  at  Vivian's  success  in  get- 
ting away.  There  could  be  no  harm  in  investi- 
gating and  he  clambered  up  into  the  cave. 
There  was  nothing  unusual  there,  and  after  a 
few  minutes  he  was  about  to  leave  when  he 
noticed  a  bit  of  cloth  clinging  to  a  piece  of  rock 
that  jutted  out  from  the  wall.  He  knew  at 
once  that  it  was  a  piece  of  Vivian's  dress.  He 
examined  the  wall  more  closely,  and  behind  the 
jutting  rock  he  found  a  large  opening.  He  was 
excited  now,  for  he  felt  sure  he  had  hit  upon 
the  way  of  the  girl's  escape. 

When  Vivian  had  gone  through  the  hole 
several  large  rocks  had  been  dislodged  and 
had  fallen  into  the  inner  entrance,  choking 

89 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

it.  This  was  fortunate,  for  otherwise  the  light 
which  would  have  entered  would  probably  have 
acquainted  her  pursuers  with  her  mode  of  exit. 
Thorpe  was  not  long  in  finding  this  out,  and  as 
soon  as  he  had  satisfied  himself  on  this  score  he 
went  outside,  and  carefully  working  his  way 
around  the  rock,  found  the  place  where  Vivian 
had  come  through.  He  tried  to  follow  her  trail, 
but  once  in  the  woods  there  was  nothing  to  indi- 
cate which  way  she  had  taken,  and  believing  she 
would  be  safe  for  the  day,  he  decided  to  go  to 
the  village  and  attend  the  inquest  to  be  held  that 
morning.  When  night  came  he  believed  he 
would  be  able  to  find  her  again  and  carry  her 
to  safety,  little  dreaming  that  a  tiny  craft,  which 
one  at  that  moment  might  have  discovered  from 
the  highest  peak  of  the  island,  was  rapidly 
bearing  her  away  to  the  bosom  of  the  great 
lake. 

It  was  almost  noon  before  the  inquest  was 
called.  The  constable  and  his  deputy  had 
spent  most  of  the  morning  gathering  witnesses. 

90 


EESULT  OF  THE  INQUEST 

many  of  them  unwilling  ones,  for  though  there 
was  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of  the  islanders  that 
Tom  had  committed  the  murder,  their  memory 
was  so  full  of  his  frank  manliness  that  they  hesi- 
tated at  the  thought  of  being  used  to  fasten  the 
crime  upon  him. 

Collins  was  much  perturbed  at  not  being  able 
to  find  the  dead  man's  daughter.  He  had  not 
counted  on  any  trouble  in  that  direction,  but 
when  Jim  Hester  declared  she  had  not  been 
about  the  house  that  morning  the  constable 
was  puzzled.  Hester,  himself,  was  anxious 
about  her  disappearance,  though  unable  to 
guess  what  had  become  of  her. 

The  first  witnesses  called  upon  were  exam- 
ined as  to  their  knowledge  of  the  ill-feeling  be- 
tween the  deceased  and  Tom  Summers.  This 
fact  was  easily  established.  Among  these  were 
several  who  were  present  when  Manette  had  at- 
tempted to  stab  Tom  and  had  been  knocked 
down  for  his  pains.  Others  testified  of  Man- 
ette's  determination  to  come  between  his  daugh- 

91 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

ter  and  Tom,  and  of  the  words  that  had 
passed.  All  the  threats  seemed  to  emanate 
from  Manette,  but  the  testimony  was  sufficient 
to  show  that  there  was  no  love  lost  between  the 
two  men. 

Jim  Hester  was  the  star  witness  of  the  day. 
He  told  of  Tom's  coming  to  the  house  and  ask- 
ing for  Mr.  Manette.  He  said  he  had  directed 
him  to  the  barn  and  that  Tom  had  gone  there. 
Later  he  saw  him  pass  the  house,  apparently 
laboring  under  excitement,  but  believing  noth- 
ing worse  than  hard  words  had  passed  between 
the  two,  he  paid  no  attention  to  the  incident. 
A  little  later  he  had  occasion  to  go  to  the  barn 
and  there  he  found  his  employer  dead,  stabbed 
to  the  heart  with  a  pitchfork,  which  lay  by  his 
side.  When  asked  if  anyone  else  was  there  at 
the  time,  he  said  that  Miss  Manette  entered  the 
barn  at  the  same  time  he  did  and  shared  with 
him  in  the  discovery.  A  few  other  questions 
were  asked  concerning  details  and  the  case 
went  to  the  jury. 

92 


EESULT  OF  THE  INQUEST 

Thorpe,  who  listened  to  the  testimony,  was 
dissatisfied  with  that  of  Hester.  While  he 
could  pick  no  flaws  in  it,  for  it  fitted  in  with  the 
story  Tom  himself  had  told  the  day  before,  yet 
he  had  a  subtle  feeling  that  there  was  a  note 
of  falsehood  about  it.  He  was  disgusted  at 
the  glib  manner  in  which  Hester  fastened  the 
crime  on  Tom,  for  the  man  gave  the  evidence 
with  an  all  too  willing  air  that  seemed  to  make 
it  a  positive  pleasure. 

The  jury  was  out  but  a  short  time,  and  the 
verdict  they  gave  was  probably  anticipated  by 
everyone  on  the  island.  It  was  that  Louis 
Manette  met  his  death  at  the  hands  of  Thomas 
Summers.  There  was  a  deep  silence  not  only 
in  the  court  room  but  in  the  streets  of  the  vil- 
lage, when  the  verdict  was  known.  There  was 
not  a  man,  woman  or  child  in  all  Mackinac  who 
had  known  Tom  Summers  who  did  not  feel  the 
weight  of  the  sorrow. 

Thorpe  went  to  the  parents  of  his  friend 
at  once  and  as  gently  as  possible  told  them 

93 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

of  the  result.  He  found  them  greatly  dis- 
turbed at  the  disappearance  of  Vivian.  He 
was  in  a  quandary  as  to  how  much  to  tell 
them.  His  right  to  tell  them  the  story  of 
the  incident  which  Tom  had  told  Vivian  and 
himself,  appeared  doubtful.  While  it  lifted  the 
shadow  of  murder  and  made  it  more  like  an  ac- 
cident, he  shared  Tom's  fear  that  in  the  light  of 
the  quarrels  that  had  preceded  the  death  of 
Manette  the  jury  might  accept  the  admission 
of  the  act  while  it  rejected  the  explanation  of 
the  manner  in  which  the  dead  man  had  met  his 
fate  as  a  story  cleverly  concocted  by  a  man  who 
wished  to  escape  the  penalty  of  his  crime.  If, 
then,  he  told  them  what  he  knew  it  might  place 
them  in  the  same  position  as  Vivian,  to  whom 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth  had  become  a  bur- 
den. But  he  felt  that  it  was  incumbent  upon 
him  to  lighten  their  load  some,  and  he  told  them 
that  Vivian  was  still  in  hiding  on  the  island,  but 
that  on  this  very  night  she  was  to  leave  in  hopes 
of  being  able  to  join  her  brother  and  give  him 
the  comfort  he  so  sorely  needed. 

94 


RESULT  OF  THE  INQUEST 

His  mission  performed  at  the  Summers, 
Thorpe  crossed  to  his  own  home,  where  he  sud- 
denly realized  he  was  half  famished,  for  he  had 
not  eaten  that  day,  and  after  satisfying  his 
hunger  he  sought  the  sleep  he  had  neglected  for 
almost  two  days.  It  was  nine  o'clock  at  night 
when  he  was  aroused  from  his  slumber  by  a 
servant  whom  he  had  directed  to  awake  him  at 
that  hour. 

All  that  night  Thorpe  wandered  over  the 
island  in  search  of  Vivian.  Every  place  she 
was  likely  to  frequent  he  had  visited,  but  not  a 
trace  could  he  find.  Morning  found  him  worn 
with  the  labors  of  the  night,  but  convinced  that 
in  some  way  Vivian  had  left  the  island.  If  she 
had  not  he  felt  that  she  would  have  been  on  the 
watch  for  him,  and  that  somewhere  during  the 
night  they  would  have  met.  He  returned  to  his 
home  and  for  several  days  worked  as  one  driven 
by  the  lash,  striving  to  forget  the  anxiety  he 
felt  for  the  girl,  whom  he  now  realized  more 
than  ever  held  his  happiness  in  her  possession. 

95 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

At  the  end  of  a  week  he  called  his  hired  man  to 
him  and  gave  him  directions  concerning  the  af- 
fairs of  the  farm.  Having  done  this  he  pre- 
pared to  leave  the  island.  He  was  going  to  find 
Vivian. 


96 


A  BOAT  IN  THE  STRAITS 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  BOAT  IN  THE  STRAITS 

WHEN  Vivian  plunged  down  the  side  of 
the  steep  and  into  the  woods  she  fully 
expected  to  hear  the  heavy  tread  of  her  pur- 
suers hurrying  after  her.  She  did  not  fear 
them,  though  she  had  when  it  seemed  as  if  they 
had  her  trapped,  for  she  knew  every  nook  and 
corner  of  the  island  and  she  was  confident  that 
now  being  in  the  open  she  had  more  than  a  fair 
chance  to  elude  them.  The  trees  were  close 
together  and  the  underbrush  was  heavy,  but  she 
knew  a  little  by-path  that  led  to  one  of  the 
main  roads,  and  finding  it,  she  speedily  made 
her  way  to  the  road.  As  she  was  about  to 
cross,  she  heard  someone  running  in  her  direc- 
tion along  the  road,  and  she  sank  down  into 
the  bushes  until  the  footsteps  died  away  in  the 

99 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

distance.  If  she  had  but  peered  through  the 
leaves  that  hid  her  she  would  have  seen  it  was 
the  one  she  was  seeking,  but  Thorpe  all  uncon- 
scious that  he  had  been  so  close  to  his  charge, 
hurried  on,  and  Vivian  did  not  know  it.  She 
was  depending  so  entirely  upon  him  to  get 
her  away  from  the  island  that  she  decided  to 
venture  to  the  shore,  hoping  to  find  him  and 
lessen  the  time  his  coming  for  her  would  take. 
"With  this  in  view,  it  was  important  she  should 
reach  the  water-front  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible. 

Coming  to  the  bluff,  she  found  herself  almost 
directly  back  of  the  old  Mission  House,  the 
place  where  she  had  seen  her  brother  so  labori- 
ously climb  the  morning  before.  Though  it 
was  near  the  home  of  the  Manettes,  she  be- 
lieved it  was  still  too  early,  despite  the  grow- 
ing light,  for  anyone  to  be  about,  and  without 
hesitating  she  boldly  plunged  down  the  cliff 
and  soon  was  at  the  bottom.  She  passed 
out  into  the  road  and  started  toward  the  shore, 

100 


when  she  was  violently  grasped  by  the  shoul- 
ders and  whirled  around  to  find  herself  face 
to  face  with  Lettie  Manette. 

Before  she  could  speak,  Lettie  demanded, 
"Do  you  know  where  Tom  has  gone?  Can  you 
tell  me!" 

Vivian  had  seen  Lettie  but  once  before  and 
that  was  for  a  few  minutes  when,  with  one  of 
the  happy  crowds  from  the  village,  she  had 
come  to  the  farmhouse  for  Tom.  She  recog- 
nized her  at  once  and  believing,  as  Thorpe  had 
at  first  believed,  that  she  sought  the  fugitive  to 
give  him  over  to  the  officers,  she  kept  silent. 
Her  whole  attitude  so  clearly  revealed  this  to 
the  girl  who  still  clutched  her,  that  she  hastened 
to  say,  "I  am  not  going  to  harm  Tom,  believe 
me,  it  is  for  his  good  I  wish  to  see  him." 

The  words  were  so  spoken  that  they  were  al- 
most convincing,  and  Vivian  grasping  at  a  last 
hope,  cried,  "If  you  really  want  to  help  Tom, 
get  me  off  the  island.  The  officers  are  after 
me  to  make  me  testify  against  him." 

101 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

1  'Make  you  testify  against  him,"  cried  the 
girl,  ''why,  what  can  you  tell?" 

"They  believe  Tom  told  me  something 
about — "  Vivian  stopped  short,  remembering 
to  whom  she  was  talking.  Lettie  understood 
and  said,  "It  is  better  for  both  of  us  to  leave 
the  island,  and  when  we  get  away,  if  you  will 
trust  me  and  if  you  know  where  Tom  is,  I  want 
you  to  take  me  to  him." 

"But  how  can  we  get  away!" 

"If  you  had  come  five  minutes  later  I  should 
have  been  gone.  I  know  how  to  sail  a  boat 
and  I  have  stocked  mine  for  a  trip.  Will  you 
go  with  me?" 

Vivian  eagerly  assented.  Though  she  was 
half  afraid  of  the  girl  beside  her  it  seemed 
best  to  trust  her  for  the  present.  She  de- 
spaired of  finding  Thorpe,  and  the  sun  was  al- 
ready mounting  above  the  horizon.  Yes,  she 
would  go.  When  this  was  settled,  Lettie  lost 
no  time  in  leading  her  to  the  boat,  where  once 
seated  she  spread  sail  and  cast  off.  Vivian 

102 


A  BOAT  IN  THE  STRAITS 

sank  down  in  the  bow,  resting  her  arm  and 
head  upon  a  seat.  Lettie  took  the  helm  and 
steered  toward  the  waters  of  Lake  Michigan. 
A  light  breeze  filled  the  sail  and  the  boat  glided 
along  through  the  smooth  waters.  Lettie 
shaped  the  course  so  that  they  filled  away  from 
the  shore  out  into  the  middle  of  the  channel. 
Before  they  could  reach  the  open  beyond,  the 
boat  must  pass  the  village  and  it  was  important 
to  be  as  far  away  from  any  chance  observer  as 
possible. 

Vivian's  mind  was  filled  with  conflicting 
emotions  as  she  was  carried  away  from  the 
home  she  had  never  left  before.  At  first  her 
heart  leaped  at  the  thought  that  she  had  es- 
caped the  ordeal  of  the  inquest,  but  she  forgot 
this  as  they  passed  each  familiar  spot,  now 
plainly  revealed  in  the  early  morning  light. 
How  beautifully  the  tranquil  bluffs  rose  from 
the  opaline  waters !  The  sea  birds  were  wheel- 
ing and  screaming  about  the  cliffs,  and  stand- 
ing in  all  its  terraced  glory  was  the  old  fort, 

103 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

its  white  walls  shining  with  the  splendor  of  the 
rising  sun.  Though  they  were  now  far  out  in 
the  channel,  the  fragrance  of  the  cedars  was 
borne  to  them  on  the  morning  breeze.  A  hun- 
dred memories  of  joyful  days  spent  in  the 
cloistered  woods  that  crowned  yonder  summits 
leaped  to  her  mind.  A  hundred  recollections  of 
the  island  home  and  of  a  happy  childhood 
crowded  upon  her,  and  all  the  while  the  little 
craft  was  taking  her  farther  and  farther  away. 
When  should  she  see  these  loved  shores  again? 
What  trials  and  sorrows  awaited  her  in  the 
great  world  beyond? 

The  boat  hastened  on  into  the  waters  of 
Michigan,  where  the  breeze  freshened  and  it 
bended  lower  under  the  sail  swelling  to  the 
full.  The  island  grew  smaller  and  smaller  un- 
til it  became  a  mere  speck  upon  the  horizon 
and  then  disappeared.  Vivian  could  not  re- 
press the  tears  that  came  welling  to  her  eyes. 
She  felt  desolate  and  alone,  her  heart  heavy 
with  foreboding  of  the  future. 

104 


THE  HUMBLING  OF  JIM  HESTER 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   HUMBLING   OF   JIM   HESTER 

funeral  of  Louis  Manette  was  held  the 
day  after  the  inquest.  It  is  still  remembered 
as  the  most  largely  attended  funeral  ever  held 
on  the  island.  Though  Manette  had  made  no 
close  friends  during  the  months  he  had  lived 
among  the  islanders,  the  incidents  connected 
with  his  death,  rather  than  a  sense  of  regret, 
served  to  draw  the  crowds  that  swarmed  his 
late  home  to  overflowing.  The  simple  folks 
whose  lives  were  so  devoid  of  sensation  wanted 
to  make  the  most  of  this  one.  Both  inside  and 
without  the  house  they  were  busy  discussing 
the  events  which  had  so  startled  them. 

Many  were  the  conjectures  concerning  the 
whereabouts  of  Tom  and  Vivian,  while  the  new 
mystery  that  had  been  added  by  the  disappear- 

107 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

ance  of  Lettie  furnished  fresh  fuel  for  the  fire. 
It  was  easy  to  understand  why  the  brother  and 
sister  had  fled,  but  why  the  daughter  of  the 
dead  man  should  leave  without  a  word,  neg- 
lecting even  the  obsequies  of  her  father,  was 
inexplicable.  There  were  not  a  few  ready  with 
surmises,  and  these,  growing  in  volume  on  their 
rounds,  would  come  back  to  their  originators 
in  the  form  of  definite  stories,  so  changed  and 
added  to  that  they  were  not  recognized  by  their 
authors  as  their  own  children,  though  they 
were  accepted  by  them  as  absolute  facts. 
Many  insisted  that  Tom  was  still  concealed  on 
the  island,  and  one  graybeard  was  very  em- 
phatic in  declaring  he  had  either  seen  Tom  or 
someone  very  much  like  Tom  in  the  vicinity 
of  Skull  Cave,  the  night  before.  Another  wise- 
acre believed  all  this  and  declared  it  was  simply 
another  instance  of  the  old  saying  that  a  mur- 
derer could  not  keep  away  from  the  scene  of 
his  crime. 

Jim  Hester  was  in  special  prominence  at  the 
108 


THE  HUMBLING  OF  JIM  HESTER 

funeral.  With  the  departure  of  Lettie  he  had 
taken  full  charge,  and  he  was  respectfully  con- 
ceded the  position  of  chief  mourner  by  the  in- 
terested people  who  thronged  everywhere  in  and 
about  the  house.  There  were  those  who  thought 
they  could  discern  under  his  superintendence  an 
ill-concealed  satisfaction.  They  were  not  mis- 
taken. Hester  was  in  truth  very  well  satisfied 
with  the  turn  events  had  taken. 

Though  it  was  not  known  on  the  island,  he 
had  been  with  the  Manettes  in  upper  Canada, 
and  when  they  came  to  Mackinac,  he  had  fol- 
lowed chiefly  because  he  was  infatuated  with 
Lettie.  The  appearance  of  Tom  Summers 
upon  the  scene  and  the  ease  with  which  he  had 
won  the  girl's  favor  had  enraged  Hester  beyond 
measure,  and  it  was  he  who  had  carried  the 
tales  to  Manette  that  had  brought  about  the  ill- 
feeling.  Again,  it  was  his  testimony  before  the 
coroner  that  had  placed  the  crime  at  Tom's 
door,  and  he  was  sanguine  that  with  Tom  out 
of  the  field,  he  possessed  means  hidden  away  in 

109 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

his  mind  which  he  meant  to  use  with  Lettie  if 
she  was  intractable.  He  fully  believed  that  it 
was  because  Lettie  was  afraid  he  would  exert 
these  means  that  she  had  fled. 

Such  thoughts  as  these  filled  the  mind  of 
Hester  as  the  funeral  cortege  wended  its  way 
to  the  little  cemetery  on  the  top  of  the  island. 
The  grave  of  Louis  Manette  was  soon  made. 
Beneath  the  trees  on  the  wind-swept  heights 
he  was  left  to  await  the  voice  that  shall  sum- 
mon all  to  come  forth  on  the  day  of  decision. 
Hester  stood  by  the  grave  until  the  crowd  had 
melted  away.  Soon  they  were  all  gone  and  he 
was  left  in  the  pleasant  silence  that  pervaded 
everything.  A  little  headstone  near  the  newly- 
made  grave  offered  a  seat  and  taking  it,  he  re- 
flected over  his  plans  for  the  future. 

The  story  of  his  connection  with  Manette  is 
due  the  reader.  It  will  give  him  a  glimpse  of 
the  dead  man's  life  which  was  undreamed  of  by 
the  islanders,  and  which  would  have  answered 
the  question  which  many  of  them  had  pondered 

110 


THE  HUMBLING  OF  JIM  HESTEK 

over  as  to  why  a  stranger  should  come  to  Mack- 
inac  and  take  up  farming  on  the  small  scale 
that  was  necessary  there.  Such  a  thing  had 
never  been  heard  of  before,  the  few  farmers  on 
the  island  having  been  .born  there  and  remained 
from  their  love  of  the  place,  rather  than  the 
rich  prospects  it  held  out  to  them. 

For  years  Manette  had  carried  on  in  his 
Canadian  home  the  business  of  counterfeiting. 
He  was  an  adept  engraver  and  his  products 
were  puzzling  to  the  most  skillful  government 
officials.  Every  move  the  veteran  criminal 
made  was  characterized  by  the  greatest  crafti- 
ness; and  not  until  within  the  last  year  had 
the  authorities  succeeded  in  making  it  so  warm 
for  him  that  discretion  suggested  a  search  for 
new  fields.  With  this  in  view  he  had  come 
to  Mackinac,  though  he  had  not  taken  up  coun- 
terfeiting, believing  it  was  best  to  wait  until 
the  stir,  created  by  some  of  his  past  adven- 
tures, had  died  away. 

Lettie  had  known  of  her  father's  occupation, 
111 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

though  she  had  not  shared  in  it.  It  had 
served  to  wean  her  away  from  him,  though 
she  had  been  brought  up  in  the  atmosphere 
of  his  crimes,  and  her  moral  convictions  had 
been  somewhat  smothered  by  this,  yet  the 
stealth  and  fraud  with  which  the  thing  was  car- 
ried on  had  grown  revolting  to  her  as  she  came 
to  years  of  understanding. 

Manette  had  always  felt  that  Lettie  might 
prove  an  excellent  accomplice  at  the  business 
if  she  would  but  be  willing,  and  it  was  because 
of  this  hope  he  had  repelled  the  attentions  that 
were  bestowed  on  her  by  Tom.  His  need  for 
a  companion  in  his  enterprises  had  been  met 
by  Hester.  With  him  he  had  been  associ- 
ated for  several  years.  When  he  had  seen 
the  attraction  that  Lettie  had  possessed  for 
Hester,  he  had  welcomed  it,  for  through  a 
union  of  the  two  he  believed  that  his  daugh- 
ter might  ultimately  be  brought  to  give  the 
valuable  assistance  to  his  schemes  of  which 
he  had  always  believed  her  capable.  If 

112 


THE  HUMBLING  OF  JIM  HESTER 

Manette  had  been  a  less  ill-tempered  man,  his 
natural  caution  which  had  been  largely  devel- 
oped of  necessity  would  have  led  him  to  have 
taken  other  means  than  open  enmity  to  have 
ridden  himself  of  Tom,  but  his  rage  was  so 
great  at  the  idea  that  the  young  islander  was 
going  to  thwart  him  in  his  plans  that  he  could 
not  contain  himself.  His  short-sightedness 
had  resulted  in  the  tragedy  which  had  cost  him 
his  life. 

Hester  thought  over  these  things  as  he 
formed  his  plans  for  the  future.  He  was  free 
to  go  out  into  the  world  and  find  the  girl. 
Despite  the  suspicions  that  had  grown  up 
around  her  father  in  their  old  home,  Hester 
knew  she  had  friends  in  the  little  Canadian 
fishing  town,  and  he  was  fully  persuaded  in  his 
own  mind  that  Lettie  had  fled  there,  hoping  to 
find  in  its  obscurity  freedom  from  his  pres- 
ence. Hester  had  always  known  that  Lettie 
hated  him.  Now  he  believed  she  feared  him. 
He  smiled  at  the  thought.  He  was  going  to 

113 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

make  this  girl  who  had  always  been  so  resolute 
cringe  to  his  will. 

A  quick  step  along  the  road  caught  his  ear 
and  looking  up,  he  saw  George  Thorpe  passing. 
Thorpe  was  one  of  the  few  people  on  the  island 
who  had  not  appeared  at  the  funeral.  Hester 
knew  that  it  was  his  friendship  for  the  Sum- 
mers that  had  kept  him  away,  and  he  also 
knew  that  much  of  the  sympathy  that  had  been 
generated  in  the  village  for  Tom,  since  the 
catastrophe,  had  been  through  the  influence  of 
Thorpe.  An  evil  spirit  within  prompted  him 
to  taunt  Thorpe  and  vaulting  the  picket  fence 
that  separated  the  graveyard  from  the  road 
he  sneered,  "Good-day  to  you,  Thorpe,  aren't 
you  lonesome  without  your  old  friends  ?" 

Thorpe  had  no  desire  to  quarrel  with  the 
fellow,  but  the  covert  insinuation  touched  his 
loyalty  to  the  quick.  "Very  much  so,'*  he  re- 
sponded, "especially  when  I  consider  the  scant 
material  for  association  they  left  behind." 

Hester,  taken  back  by  the  readiness  with 
114 


THE  HUMBLING  OF  JIM  HESTER 

which  his  meanness  had  been  received,  replied, 
"Well,  if  a  man  prefers  an  assassin  for  a  com- 
panion I  suppose  it  is  his  own  business." 

"It  may  indeed  be  his  own  business,"  coolly 
returned  Thorpe,  "but  there  are  those  in  this 
neighborhood  who  cannot  refrain  from  trying 
to  make  it  theirs." 

"Birds  of  a  feather,  you  know,"  weakly  re- 
plied Hester. 

"Oh,  I  don't  notice  any  other  buzzards 
around  here,"  said  Thorpe. 

Hester  began  to  feel  uncomfortable.  Per- 
haps he  had  better  have  stayed  on  the  other  side 
of  the  fence.  In  his  anger  he  accepted  the 
designation,  "A  buzzard  at  least  doesn't  kill." 

Thorpe  cheerily  assented  to  this,  "Ah,  I  see 
you  are  acquainted  with  the  habits  of  the  bird. 
You  know,  of  course,  that  craven-like  he  slinks 
far  away  until  the  deed  is  done  and  then  picks 
the  bones  of  the  dead." 

The  fling  sank  into  Hester's  marrow.  He 
launched  at  Thorpe  with  a  vicious  blow. 

115 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

Thorpe  received  him  gladly.  He  was  con- 
vinced that  the  fellow  needed  a  sound  thrash- 
ing, and  he  felt  that  it  was  within  his  power 
to  give  it  to  him.  Hester,  who  knew  that 
Thorpe  was  physically  his  superior,  had  not 
meant  to  be  drawn  into  a  contest  of  this  kind, 
and  he  never  forgave  himself  afterward  that 
he  had  allowed  his  anger  to  make  him  forget 
his  resolution.  His  opponent  took  advantage 
of  the  opportunity  and  administered  a  chastise- 
ment that  did  not  cease  until  he  was  beseeched 
for  mercy. 

11  Hereafter  be  more  polite  when  you  address 
your  betters,"  admonished  Thorpe,  who  then 
went  his  way  over  the  hill,  leaving  Hester  nurs- 
ing his  wounds,  hot  with  the  vengefulness  he 
dared  not  express. 


116 


'THE  LITTLE  EVA" 


CHAPTER  XI 

"THE  LITTLE  EVA" 

ADMIRAL  PETER  SIMMONS  paced  the 
deck  of  his  craft,  The  Little  Eva,  in 
a  rage.  A  face  well  adapted  to  the  smiles  it 
usually  wore  was  now  surmounted  by  a  frown, 
while  his  portly  form,  ordinarily  the  personi- 
fication of  comfortable  satisfaction,  was  shaken 
with  anger.  Never,  since  he  had  become  an 
admiral  on  the  great  lake  the  year  before,  had 
he  given  way  to  wrath,  which  now  filled  him 
to  the  full.  Occasionally  he  stopped  in  his 
tracks  and  gave  vent  to  maledictions  which  all 
seemed  to  be  directed  at  an  invisible  female, 
Eliza  by  name. 

A  wholesome  looking  woman  came  up  from 
the  cabin,  and  as  she  witnessed  his  gyrations, 
exclaimed,  "There  now,  Admiral,  nothing  can 

119 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

be  helped  by  taking  on  that  way.  Calm  your- 
self and  you  will  be  better  able  to  find  a  way 
out  of  the  difficulty." 

"Mrs.  Simmons,"  said  the  Admiral,  with  con- 
siderable emphasis,  "Mrs.  Peter  Simmons,  you 
are  calm  enough.  Will  you  please  find  the 
way?" 

"Now,  Peter,"  soothingly  replied  his  wife,  "I 
will  leave  that  to  you.  You  are  the  manager. 
You  always  have  found  a  way.  You  will  do  it 
now." 

This  tribute  to  his  astuteness  mollified  the 
Admiral  not  a  bit.  It  was  a  time  when  more 
than  diplomacy  was  evidently  necessary  to 
pacify  the  substantial  looking  man,  whose  heel 
gave  out  a  sharper  crunch,  each  time  it  came  in 
contact  with  the  decks.  So  Mrs.  Simmons  dis- 
appeared in  the  cabin,  without  further  attempt, 
and  the  storm  continued. 

"I  wish,"  he  cried,  "I  wish  there  had  been 
a  hole  in  the  ice  and  she'd  gone  through.  It 
would  have  been  no  more  than  she  deserved." 

120 


"THE  LITTLE  EVA" 

Then  after  a  pause,  "It's  a  pity  the  blood- 
hounds didn't  catch  her,  it  is  indeed.  If  I  was 
old  Harriet  Stowe  you  better  believe  I'd  have 
fixed  her." 

Suddenly  he  turned  and  looking  up,  caught 
the  man  in  the  wheel-house  with  a  broad  grin 
on  his  face.  "That's  right,  that's  right,"  he 
roared.  "No  sympathy  for  me  on  board  this 
boat.  Here  we  are  with  an  important  engage- 
ment at  our  next  stop  and  no  Eliza;  and  you 
there  grinning  at  me  like  the  skeleton  of  a 
skinned  cat." 

The  wheel-man  made  no  answer,  though  he 
did  try  to  coerce  his  face  into  solemnity, 
and  the  admiral  went  forward  and  throwing 
himself  into  a  chair  moodily  gazed  down 
into  the  water  as  if  contemplating  self-de- 
struction. 

Vessels  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made  had 
plowed  the  waters  of  old  Michigan,  but  if 
a  sister  ship  to  The  Little  Eva  wetted  her  sides 
there,  the  unsalted  sea  remembered  it  not. 

121 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

Her  crew  was  recruited  not  from  the  hoary- 
headed,  grimy-faced  men  known  as  lake  sail- 
ors, but  from  those  who  were  wont  to  tread 
the  boards  of  the  stage  rather  than  those  of  a 
ship.  Her  history  as  well  as  that  of  Peter 
Simmons,  her  owner,  and  by  courtesy  called, 
The  Admiral,  was  known  along  the  lake  shore. 
Simmons  had  never  known  any  life  but  that 
of  an  actor.  He  was  proud  to  tell  of  his  debut 
at  the  tender  age  of  three  years,  and  how  he 
had  appeared  as  one  of  the  children  of  the 
memorable  village  of  Falling  Waters.  That 
was  several  decades  ago,  but  through  the  strife 
and  conflict  of  life,  and  Simmons  had  known 
little  else,  he  had  wooed  fortune  only  through 
the  art  of  the  thespian.  In  his  younger  years, 
when  a  more  rugged  school  of  acting  was  in 
favor  than  now  obtained,  he  had  had  consider- 
able success.  For  the  last  decade  his  triumphs 
had  become  less  and  less,  until  a  combination  of 
this  misfortune,  together  with  a  grip  of  hard 
times  which  had  swept  the  country,  carried  him 

122 


"THE  LITTLE  EVA" 

off  his  feet  and  left  him  bereft  of  fortune  to 
begin  life  all  over  again. 

His  wife,  who  had  shared  all  his  vicissitudes 
without  a  murmur,  cheered  him  and  his  own 
sunny  nature  warmed  to  life  the  spark  of  cour- 
age still  hidden  in  his  heart,  and  gathering  a 
company  of  barn-stormers  he  set  about  pro- 
ducing what  he  denominated  on  the  bills  as 
"A  grand  and  satisfying  presentation  of  the 
noble,  moral  drama,  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin." 
He  shared  the  conviction  of  most  actors  that 
on  the  judgment  day  someone  would  have  to 
kill  "Uncle  Tom"  with  an  ax  and  this,  with 
the  fact  that  there  were  no  author's  royalties 
to  pay,  made  it  a  welcome  vehicle  to  retrieve  his 
fortunes  which  had  so  completely  waned.  He 
himself,  not  satisfied  with  the  proud  position 
of  owner  and  stage  manager  of  the  company, 
also  preempted  the  title  role  and  appeared 
nightly  as  well  as  at  several  matinees  as  Uncle 
Tom.  Mrs.  Simmons  appeared  as  Aunt 
Ophelia  at  one  time  during  the  evening  and 

123 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

later  as  Emmeline.  Timothy  Holcomb,  who 
was  at  present  presiding  at  the  wheel,  not  to 
be  outdone,  enacted  the  triple  roles  of  George 
Harris,  Mr.  St.  Clair  and  Simon  Legree.  A 
sister  of  Mrs.  Simmons  was  satisfied  with  the 
part  of  Topsy,  while  Lawyer  Marks,  Phineas 
Fletcher,  Eliza,  Little  Eva,  and  some  dozen 
other  characters  in  the  drama  were  divided 
up  between  a  half  dozen,  who  glided  from  part 
to  part  with  all  the  grace  and  celerity  of  the 
lightning  change  artist. 

Despite  all  this  display  of  brilliancy,  Mr. 
Simmons  and  his  company  had  had  no  great 
success  during  their  first  seasons,  and  they 
had  simply  clung  to  Mrs.  Stowe's  creation  for 
the  same  reason  the  drowning  man  clings  to 
the  straw; — there  was  nothing  else  to  cling  to. 
Two  years  before  the  time  of  which  we  write, 
a  change  had  come  in  the  tide  of  ill-fortune 
that  had  threatened  for  so  long  to  devour  Mr. 
Simmons  and  all  his  belongings.  A  pious  and 
rich  uncle  of  his  had  died,  and  though  he  willed 

124 


"THE  LITTLE  EVA" 

his  fortune  to  found  a  college  that  he  believed 
would  make  the  name  of  Thaddeus  Simmons 
refulgent  to  the  youth  of  all  succeeding  genera- 
tions, he  did  not  forget  his  nephew,  whose  per- 
son and  profession  he  had,  to  say  the  least, 
held  in  the  deepest  distrust.  At  one  time  the 
deceased  had  been  connected  with  a  dredging 
company,  and  though  he  had  severed  his  rela- 
tions with  the  firm  long  before  for  some  rea- 
son, now  never  to  be  discovered,  an  old  dredg- 
ing scow  remained  in  his  possession.  This  he 
left  to  his  nephew  with  the  worthy  wish  that 
with  it  he  might  earn  a  more  honest  livelihood 
than  he  was  doing  around  the  country  in  an 
occupation  that  reeked  with  sin. 

It  so  happened  that  the  same  mail  that 
brought  Mr.  Simmons  news  of  the  loss  of  his 
valued  relative  was  a  messenger  of  a  similar 
import  to  Mrs.  Simmons.  She,  too,  had  an 
uncle,  though  he  was  neither  rich  nor  pious. 
He  had  departed  this  life  and  made  her  his  sole 
heir.  Her  inheritance  consisted  of  a  saw-mill 

125 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

some  few  miles  out  of  Chicago,  in  a  suburb 
where  it  was  a  crime  to  cut  down  a  tree  and 
consequently  business  in  the  saw-mill  line  was 
dull.  Moreover,  the  saw-mill  was  on  leased 
ground,  the  lease  of  which  had  just  expired. 

An  inspection  of  the  property  revealed  that 
the  only  things  connected  with  the  business  that 
were  worth  anything  were  the  engine  and  boiler 
of  the  saw-mill,  and  then  it  was  that  Mr.  Sim- 
mons was  struck  with  a  happy  thought.  A 
careful  examination  of  the  dredge  scow  of 
which  he  had  become  the  owner  showed  it  was 
fifty  feet  long  by  twenty-four  feet  wide  and 
had  a  depth  of  some  six  or  seven  feet.  The 
first  thing  Mr.  Simmons  did,  or  Admiral  Sim- 
mons, as  he  was  hereafter  to  be  known  on  the 
lake,  was  to  have  the  saw-mill  engine  and  boiler 
brought  to  the  slip  in  the  Chicago  River  where 
the  scow  lay,  and  after  planking  the  hull  he 
placed  the  machinery  in  the  stern.  He  then 
procured  an  old  paddle  wheel,  from  where  is  a 
mystery  to  this  day,  and  it  required  no  great 

126 


"THE  LITTLE  EVA" 

expert  in  ship  carpentering  to  make  the  proper 
connection  with  the  engine.  Then  a  deck  was 
built  across  the  heavy  beams  of  the  boat,  which 
until  now  had  been  the  only  pathway  across  it, 
and  upon  this  he  built  a  deckhouse.  The  deck- 
house he  fitted  up  with  bunks  and,  rude  though 
it  was,  it  was  not  entirely  lacking  in  comfort. 
On  top  of  the  deckhouse,  which  was  in  the  back 
part  of  the  transformed  scow,  was  the  pilot 
house.  The  rest  of  the  space  below  the  deck 
was  fitted  up  as  a  culinary  department  and 
a  baggage  room.  The  dining  room  was  the 
free,  open  deck,  on  which  was  erected  a  shaky 
table  on  folding  legs  just  before  each  meal  and 
which  at  these  times  always  had  to  be  dried; 
for  in  the  interim  it  was  carefully  folded  up 
and  hung  over  the  side  of  the  boat  in  the  water. 
All  this  done,  Simmons  held  a  christening 
party  and  The  Little  Eva  came  into  existence. 
From  this  time  Simmons  was  no  longer  the 
slave  of  hard-hearted  corporations  that  re- 
quired not  a  tenth  but  nearly  all  of  his  posses- 

127 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

sions  to  transport  him  and  his  company  from 
place  to  place.  The  Little  Eva,  blessed  craft, 
was  gently  and  sometimes  tediously  propelled 
from  place  to  place  along  the  entire  shore  line 
of  all  the  lakes;  and  Simmons  could  now  look 
ahead  and  see  the  flood  tide  of  prosperity  bear- 
ing down  upon  him. 

His  genial  soul  had  warmed  and  mellowed 
under  all  this  and  the  first  shadow  to  cross  his 
horizon  was  to  find  that  at  the  last  stopping 
place  the  leading  lady  of  his  company,  as 
she  insisted  on  calling  herself,  one  May  Heggs 
by  name,  had  fallen  in  love  at  sight  with  a 
butcher's  clerk,  which  passion  being  recipro- 
cated, had  promptly  led  to  matrimony,  leav- 
ing the  company  without  an  Eliza  to  nightly 
cross  the  icy  Ohio  chased  by  a  lonely  St. 
Bernard,  which  was  down  on  the  bills  as  "a 
band  of  man-eating  bloodhounds."  The  very 
next  port  was  one  where  he  had  always  been 
warmly  received,  and  suddenly  to  lose  one 
of  the  most  valued  members  of  his  troop  at 

128 


"THE  LITTLE  EVA" 

this  very  point  was  too  much  for  his  good  pa- 
tience. Accordingly  he  stormed,  while  the  rest 
of  the  people  on  board  retreated  to  the  cabin 
to  conceal  the  amusement  he  occasioned  by  the 
unique  method  of  displaying  his  wrath. 
Timothy  Holcomb,  the  only  one  on  the  boat 
who  knew  how  to  do  a  trick  at  the  wheel,  was 
alone  compelled  to  conceal  his  merriment, 
while  he  continued  in  the  presence  of  his  su- 
perior officer  in  naval  rank,  and  his  star  in  the 
dramatic  world. 

The  Admiral  continued  to  gaze  steadfastly 
into  the  waters  until  his  attention  was  attracted 
by  a  small  sailboat  bearing  down  upon  The 
Little  Eva.  Its  one  sail  effectually  concealed 
its  occupants.  So  distraught  was  Simmons  with 
his  troubles  that  he  probably  would  not  have 
taken  note  of  the  boat  at  all  if  it  had  continued 
on  its  passage  without  coming  directly  toward 
his  boat.  Even  after  he  had  noticed  it,  he  took 
it  for  granted  that  the  boat  would  directly  bear 
away,  until  suddenly  a  puff  of  wind  brought 

129 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

it  so  rapidly  forward  that  he  saw  nothing  could 
prevent  a  collision.  He  leaped  to  his  feet  in- 
tending to  warn  the  intruder  of  the  danger, 
when  the  sail  veered  slightly  to  one  side  and 
to  his  amazement  he  saw  fast  asleep  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat  two  comely  young  women. 


130 


HARVEST  TIME  IN  A  RIVER  CITY 


THE    INDIAN   TRAIL 


CHAPTER  XII 

HARVEST   TIME   IN   A   RIVER   CITY 

IT  was  harvesting  time  and  the  Iowa  river 
cities  were  filled  with  the  men  who  early 
in  the  season  had  commenced  their  labors  far 
to  the  south  of  St.  Louis.  As  the  great  fields 
ripened,  they  had  worked  their  way  northward, 
welcomed  by  the  thrifty  farmers,  who,  without 
this  slowly-moving  army,  would  have  been  un- 
able to  gather  the  fruits  of  seedtime.  The 
Mississippi  was  the  avenue  used  by  these  har- 
vest hands  to  make  their  way  from  place  to 
place,  and  as  fast  as  the  yellow  grain  and 
golden  corn  was  safely  stored  away  under  roof 
they  pressed  on  to  the  North,  where  other 
fields  were  ripening  and  awaiting  their  com- 
ing. 

Where  this  multitude  came  from,  when  it  ap- 
133 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

peared  in  the  early-maturing  plantation  of  the 
Southland,  and  where  it  went  to,  when  the  last 
mellow  wealth  of  the  northern  fields  was  gath- 
ered in,  was  a  mystery.  It  was  almost  as  if  it 
was  made  up  of  men  of  hibernal  natures,  who, 
the  summer's  work  being  done,  retired  to  some 
hidden  nook  in  Nature's  domain  to  slumber 
through  the  white  days  of  winter.  That  it  was 
cosmopolitan  was  written  on  the  face  of  it. 
The  jargon  of  every  nation  was  the  tongue  of 
this  army.  The  yellow  heads  of  the  Scandi- 
navian peninsula,  the  swarthy-skinned  men  of 
Italy,  the  bewhiskered  Buss,  the  explosive  Lux- 
emburger,  and  the  velvety-skinned  Lithuanian, 
gregariously  swarmed  the  valley,  and  rubbed 
elbows  with  the  cockney  whose  ear  was  at- 
tuned to  the  Bow  Bells,  the  rollicking,  roister- 
ing son  of  Erin,  and  the  raw-bone  canny  man 
who  hailed  from  the  land  of  the  heather.  Nor 
was  the  ebony  face  of  the  man  in  black  wanting 
to  complete  this  congress  of  nations. 

Here  in  the  vast  mass  of  tumid  humanity  a 
134 


HARVEST  TIME  IN  A  RIVER  CITY 

man  might  be  as  easily  lost  from  his  fellows 
as  in  a  trackless  forest.  Divided  for  weeks 
over  great  stretches  of  country,  and  coming 
together  again  to  move  onward  to  other  fields 
of  labor,  the  identity  of  the  individual  was  lost. 
It  was  only  when  these  men  stopped  for  what 
might  be  termed  a  breathing  spell,  in  some  of 
these  cities  that  bordered  the  Father  of  Waters, 
that  now  and  then  a  chance  passer-by,  a  traveler 
mayhap  from  across  the  seas,  would  remember 
in  the  face  of  one  of  the  men  a  look  he  had  seen 
years  before  in  the  features  of  a  scion  of  some 
ducal  house  or  a  resemblance  to  a  man  whose 
place  of  power  had  crumbled  to  ashes  beneath 
some  long-forgotten  disaster.  But  such  rec- 
ognitions as  these  were  few.  For  the  most 
part  these  men  were  not  the  adventurous  spirits 
that  have  known  the  satin  and  silk  of  life  and 
have  left  it  for  the  freedom  of  the  road,  but 
rather  men  of  humble  mind  and  mien,  whose 
mission  in  life  had  always  been,  and  always 
would  be,  to  be  numbered  among  the  hewers  of 

135 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

wood  and  the  drawers  of  water.  And  so  they 
were  not  all  gentle  of  manner,  nor  nice  in  ac- 
tion. When  they  found  themselves  on  a  Sun- 
day in  one  of  these  river  cities,  many  of  them 
sought  to  free  themselves  from  the  spirit 
that  bound  them  to  the  laborious  drudging  of 
the  harvest  and  obtain  relaxation  in  roister- 
ing. 

It  was  among  such  surroundings  that  Tom 
Summers  found  himself  at  the  end  of  his  jour- 
ney in  the  freight  car.  The  train  of  which 
the  car  was  a  part  had  not  gone  to  Chicago, 
as  his  sister  expected,  but  had  crossed  Michi- 
gan to  Duluth,  and  then  had  turned  southward 
and  had  left  the  car  with  a  number  of  others 
at  Eavenport,  where  it  was  to  be  filled  with 
part  of  the  harvest  the  men  were  now  about 
to  go  out  into  the  surrounding  country  to 
gather.  Tom  was  fortunate  enough  to  get 
away  from  the  vicinity  of  the  freight  yards 
without  attracting  attention;  and  discovering 
the  meaning  of  the  large  number  of  men  in  the 

136 


HAEVEST  TIME  IN  A  EIVEE  CITY 

city,  he  determined  to  join  one  of  the  harvesting 
gangs. 

When  he  had  left  the  island  he  had  no 
money,  but  Thorpe  had  given  him  all  he  had 
when  he  had  boarded  the  train  at  St.  Ignace. 
This  amounted  to  eighteen  dollars.  Thorpe 
had  also  procured  for  him  a  large  bundle 
of  food,  so  not  having  suffered  from  hunger 
he  was  but  little  fatigued  by  his  journey.  It 
had  taken  two  days  for  the  freight  train  to 
reach  Eavenport,  and  though  he  felt  stiff  be- 
cause he  had  lacked  exercise,  Tom  was  really 
in  fine  condition.  The  freshening  air  brought 
back  hope,  and  his  spirits  began  to  rise.  He 
believed  that  with  the  wide  world  before  him 
there  was  little  to  fear.  Surely  he  was  now 
where  recognition  was  well-nigh  impossible. 
He  was  roused  from  these  reveries  by  a  hand 
touching  his  shoulder  while  a  voice  exclaimed, 
"I  want  you!" 

Tom  turned,  a  flood  of  dread  forebodings 
rushing  through  his  mind.  It  was  a  police- 

137 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

man.  For  a  moment  he  was  speechless,  star- 
ing stupidly  at  the  officer.  "I  want  you,"  re- 
peated the  latter,  releasing  his  hold  on  the 
shoulder  and  grasping  Tom  by  the  arm. 
"Come  along  with  me." 

"What  for!"  stammered  Tom. 

* '  Never  you  mind.  You  come  with  me, ' '  and 
the  invitation  was  emphasized  this  time  by  a 
violent  jerk.  The  thought  of  a  struggle  and 
flight  came  to  Tom  and  it  is  probable  that  the 
officer  saw  the  glint  of  it  in  his  eye,  for  he 
called  to  another  policeman  near  by.  "This 
fellow  is  a  bad  one,"  he  said.  "Give  me  a 
hand."  Between  them  a  pair  of  handcuffs 
were  slipped  over  Tom's  wrists,  and  without 
further  ado  he  was  taken  to  the  city  jail. 

There  had  been  no  question  in  Tom's  mind 
but  that  his  arrest  had  been  ordered  from 
Michigan  and  that  he  was  charged  with  mur- 
der. Luckily  no  word  of  this  escaped  his  lips 
and  when  he  was  thrust  into  a  cell,  which  was 
already  occupied  by  several  other  men,  he  soon 

138 


HARVEST  TIME  IN  A  RIVER  CITY 

found  that  it  was  the  custom  of  the  local  au- 
thorities to  hold  an  annual  round-up  during 
the  harvest  season  among  the  strangers  in  the 
town.  He  was  relieved  to  find  that  they  were 
generally  ordered  out  of  town  early  the  next 
morning.  He  knew  enough  about  the  practices 
of  the  law  to  know  that,  if  he  had  been  accused 
of  anything  as  serious  as  murder,  he  would  not 
have  been  placed  in  a  cell  with  others  but  would 
have  been  confined  alone. 

When  the  men  were  first  brought  in  they 
were  not  entered  as  arrests,  but  after  some 
twenty  or  thirty  were  collected  from  the 
streets,  they  were  all  taken  before  the  police 
sergeant,  their  names  booked  and  their  per- 
sons searched.  The  charge  against  them  was 
vagrancy.  At  this  Tom  submitted  will- 
ingly to  the  search,  for  he  thought  that 
when  it  was  discovered  that  he  was  possessed 
of  eighteen  dollars  they  would  release  him  at 
once.  He  was  disappointed,  for  the  sergeant 
put  the  money  away  in  a  drawer  of  his  desk, 

139 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

as  he  entered  Tom  under  the  name  of  John 
White,  the  first  that  came  to  his  mind  when 
asked.  Tom  had  been  quiet  under  the  ques- 
tioning, for  the  thought  that  he  might  in 
some  way  betray  that  he  was  already  a  fugi- 
tive from  the  law,  made  him  ready  to  endure 
the  lesser  injustice  that  he  might  not  be  dis- 
covered. It  was  when  he  found  that,  though 
he  was  possessed  of  money  and  had  committed 
no  overt  act,  the  police  were  still  going  to 
hold  him  a  prisoner  until  the  morning,  that  the 
wrong  caused  him  to  forget  his  caution  and 
impelled  him  to  cry  out,  "I  am  no  vagabond. 
You  see  that  I  have  money.  I  am  an  American 
citizen.  What  right  have  you  to  hold  me 
here?" 

"You  may  tell  that  to  the  judge  in  the  morn- 
ing, "  replied  the  sergeant,  and  unwilling  to 
listen  either  to  Tom  or  several  others  who  were 
expostulating,  he  ordered  them  all  to  be  recon- 
ducted  to  the  cells. 

Tom's  cell  mates  took  the  incident  in  surly 
140 


HAEVEST  TIME  IN  A  RIVER  CITY 

but  uncomplaining  manner.  This  was  not 
their  first  season  as  harvest  hands,  and  evi- 
dently they  were  not  unacquainted  with  the 
customs  of  the  police,  even  if  they  had  never 
been  victims  themselves  heretofore.  Tom  was 
divided  in  his  mind  as  to  the  best  course  to 
pursue.  His  natural  indignation  at  his  arrest 
made  him  wish  to  tell  the  judge  of  how  un- 
justly he  had  been  treated.  Then  there  was  the 
feeling  that  he  would  better  be  careful  lest  he 
awake  inquiries  that  might  spell  calamity  for 
him.  His  judgment  told  him  that  as  the  court 
would  undoubtedly  free  him  it  would  be  best 
to  bear  these  present  indignities  and  go  on  his 
way  satisfied  because  a  severer  fate  had  not  been 
his. 

Court  was  called  early  the  next  morning. 
The  bailiffs  who  hurried  the  prisoners  before 
the  judge  neglected  to  give  them  the  coffee  and 
bread  that  was  customary.  Tom  did  not  be- 
wail this.  The  sooner  he  was  free  to  pursue 
his  way,  the  happier  he  would  be. 

141 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

The  prisoners  were  arraigned  in  a  half-cir- 
cle before  the  bench  and  it  was  evident,  from 
the  preparations  that  the  bailiffs  were  making, 
that  their  trials  were  to  be  brief.  When  all  was 
ready  the  judge  hurried  in  from  an  ante-room 
and  taking  his  seat  the  administration  of  jus- 
tice began.  "First  case,"  called  the  judge. 
"  James  Brown,  vagrancy,  your  honor,"  called 
the  bailiff.  "What  are  the  facts!"  asked  the 
judge.  "This  man  was  found  wandering  about 
town.  He  had  no  money  and  no  residence." 
"Two  hours  to  leave  town  or  to  jail  you  go," 
declared  the  judge.  "Next." 

Tom  stood  eighth  in  line  and  listened  to  a 
repetition  of  this  in  every  instance.  Not  once 
was  one  of  the  defendants  asked  or  allowed  to 
give  testimony.  One  man  who  attempted  to 
speak  was  quickly  silenced  and  the  autocrat  of 
the  bench  snarled,  "One  word  out  of  you  and 
you  go  to  jail  now."  To  one  who  had  a  natural 
instinct  for  justice  as  strongly  developed  as 
Tom  the  scene  was  sickening,  but  again  caution 

142 


HARVEST  TIME  IN  A  RIVER  CITY 

warned  him  silently  to  receive  his  banishment. 
The  testimony  varied  for  his  case.  "This 
man,  John  White,  your  honor,"  said  the 
bailiff,  "is  a  stranger  here  without  work.  We 
found  eighteen  dollars  on  his  person,  but  we 
booked  him  as  a  vagrant." 

"Fined  sixteen  dollars,"  snapped  the  judge. 
"Next." 

For  the  first  time  it  dawned  upon  Tom  what 
his  arrest  had  meant.  With  the  fear  that  the 
citizens  of  Ravenport  professed  to  have  of  the 
rough  spirits  among  the  harvesters,  there  was 
united  a  spirit  of  greed  on  the  part  of  the  city 
authorities  to  enrich  their  local  treasury  at  the 
expense  of  these  men.  Those  who  had  ex- 
pended their  money  in  the  town  were  warned 
to  leave  at  once.  There  was  nothing  more  to 
be  gained  from  them.  Those  who  still  retained 
a  portion  of  their  money  were  relieved  of  it  in 
a  manner  that  would  have  caused  a  blush  of 
shame  to  mantle  the  face  of  an  everyday  foot- 
pad. The  wickedness  of  it  rankled  in  Tom's 

143 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

breast,  but  though  he  was  impulsive  to  a  degree, 
he  was  not  so  precipitate  as  to  forget  that  in 
the  hands  of  such  men  as  these  he  was  as  a 
shuttlecock  at  the  mercy  of  a  battledore,  and 
so  he  held  his  peace.  True,  he  must  resume 
his  journey  with  almost  all  of  his  scanty  store 
gone,  for  when  his  fine  was  paid  but  two  of  his 
eighteen  dollars  remained.  Even  here  he 
counted  without  a  knowledge  of  the  crafty 
minds  that  had  reckoned  before  him.  The  two 
dollars  that  remained  after  the  fine  was  paid 
were  also  retained  as  the  costs  of  the  court. 
And  so,  when  at  length  he  was  released,  thank- 
ful that  he  had  escaped  with  his  life  from  such 
a  nest  of  scorpions,  he  set  out  on  the  highway 
penniless,  hungry  and  alone. 


144 


IN  A  NEW  WORLD 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IN  A  NEW  WOBLD 

,  if  that  doesn't  beat  Moses  in  the 
bullrushes,"  ejaculated  Admiral  Pe- 
ter Simmons,  as  he  looked  down  upon  the 
sleepers  in  the  sailboat.  The  next  moment  the 
little  craft  struck  the  side  of  The  Little  Eva  and 
the  jar  awoke  the  two  girls,  who,  on  opening 
their  eyes,  saw  Admiral  Simmons  trying  to 
steady  their  boat  by  grasping  at  the  mast  and 
at  the  same  time  calling  to  his  crew  to  stop  the 
engine.  If  The  Little  Eva  had  been  making 
much  headway  the  sailboat  would  have  been  in- 
evitably overturned,  but  speed  was  not  one  of 
the  strong  points  of  The  Little  Eva  and  it  re- 
quired but  little  effort  to  stop  her  altogether. 
Admiral  Simmons  felt  that  here  was  an  op- 
portunity to  vindicate  his  seamanship,  and  it 

147 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

was  almost  in  a  twinkling  that  he  had  these 
two  daughters  of  the  unsalted  seas  upon  his 
deck  and  their  boat  trailing  behind  The  Little 
Eva,  securely  fastened  by  a  stout  rope. 

"Well,"  said  the  admiral  as  he  good-natur- 
edly surveyed  the  two  young  women  standing 
on  his  deck,  "it  looks  to  me  as  if  we'll  have  to 
call  a  court-martial.  Asleep  at  your  post, 
hey?" 

Lettie, — for  it  is  needless  to  tell  the  reader 
that  the  castaways  were  Lettie  and  Vivian, — 
replied,  "We  are  indeed  grateful  to  you, 
sir.  We  had  a  rough  sea  all  through  last  night, 
and  it  kept  both  of  us  awake  to  manage  our 
boat.  This  morning  we  planned  to  take  turn- 
about at  sleeping,  but  the  exhaustion  of  the 
night  was  too  much  for  us  and  we  both  must 
have  fallen  asleep." 

"What  port  do  you  hail  from?"  asked  the 
Admiral,  who  delighted  in  the  nomenclature  of 
the  sea.  An  answer  to  this  question  was  saved 
them  by  Mrs.  Simmons,  who  bustled  forward 

148 


IN  A  NEW  WORLD 

exclaiming,  "Peter  Simmons,  don't  you  see 
these  poor  girls  are  weak  with  the  cold?  Come 
right  down  into  the  cabin.  I'm  going  to  put 
you  both  to  bed  and  warm  you  up.  The  idea 
of  being  out  all  night  in  that  topsy-turvy  sail- 
boat." 

In  truth  they  had  spent  two  nights  in  the 
boat.  It  was  the  second  morning  since  the  lit- 
tle craft  had  sailed  away  from  the  island.  Let- 
tie  had  stocked  the  boat  with  provisions  and 
they  had  not  wanted  for  food,  but  the  cold  had 
brought  them  great  discomfort.  .  The  breezes 
had  been  all  in  their  favor  in  bearing  them 
away  from  the  island,  but  for  this  very  reason 
they  had  felt  the  chill  of  the  north. 

The  second  night  it  had  blown  almost  a  gale, 
and  they  actually  suffered  from  not  only  the 
cold  but  the  waves,  which  every  now  and  then 
would  come  sweeping  over  the  stern  of  their 
boat.  In  these  two  days  and  nights  spent  to- 
gether on  the  great  waters,  Vivian  came  to  de- 
pend greatly  on  Lettie's  reliant  spirit.  There 

149 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

also  came  to  her  absolute  conviction  that  her 
brother  would  never  suffer  ill  at  the  hands  of 
this  girl.  Whatever  the  object  of  her  quest  in 
seeking  him  might  be,  Vivian  intuitively  knew 
that  it  was  for  Tom's  good.  This  was  enough 
to  win  the  confidence  and  devotion  of  the  island 
girl.  And  so  her  diffident  heart  in  these  hours 
that  seemed  so  full  of  peril  and  trouble,  leaned 
heavily  on  the  sympathy  and  support  of  her 
companion.  Lettie,  silent  and  reserved  her- 
self, was  unflinchingly  brave,  and  no  obstacle 
appeared  too  arduous  for  her  spirit  to  sur- 
mount. In  the  moments  upon  their  two-day 
journey  on  the  lake,  which  had  been  the  most 
trying,  she  had  never  quailed  once. 

Mrs.  Simmons  hurried  them  below  deck  and 
soon  they  were  in  comfortable  berths  with 
blankets  piled  over  them  and  steaming  coffee 
served  to  them  by  her  own  good  hands. 

"Goodness  knows,"  she  ejaculated,  "the  Ad- 
miral would  have  kept  you  there  on  deck  until 
you  were  plumb  dead.  I  never  did  see  a  man 

150 


IN  A  NEW  WORLD 

that  liked  to  talk  like  he  does.  You'd  a* 
thought  his  wits  had  gone  a  wool  gathering." 
And  so  the  good  woman  bustled  about  omitting 
nothing  that  might  add  to  their  comfort. 

The  cold  had  almost  eaten  to  their  very  bone ; 
and  the  treatment  that  Mrs.  Simmons  gave 
them  was  exactly  what  they  needed.  Under 
its  influence  they  were  soon  both  sound  asleep. 

An  adventure  of  any  kind  always  appealed 
strongly  to  the  Admiral's  love  of  the  romantic, 
which  was  well  developed,  and  the  rescue  of  the 
distressed  maidens  especially  did  so.  His 
whimsical  mind  was  filled  with  thoughts  of 
knights  of  old  and  the  golden  deeds  of  fabled 
story  and  he  strode  his  deck  after  his  wife  had 
conducted  them  below,  his  heel  coming  down 
with  unusual  vigor  on  the  deck.  The  captain 
of  an  ocean  bark  could  not  have  been  happier 
after  some  great  bravery  at  sea  than  the  Admi- 
ral over  his  latest  feat.  And  while  he  thought 
of  it  and  of  where  they  might  be  bound  there 
suddenly  came  a  new  thought  that  hugely 

151 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

elated  him.  He  would  have  rushed  below  in 
his  enthusiasm  if  Mrs.  Simmons  had  not  ap- 
peared above  deck  at  that  moment.  He 
clasped  her  in  his  arms  and  waltzed  her  around 
several  times,  shouting  all  the  while,  "I  have  it 
now!  I  have  it!" 

"Well,  I  should  say  you  had,"  declared  his 
wife,  trying  to  pull  away.  "I  declare,  Admiral, 
one  would  believe  you  had  been  drinking." 

He  answered  her  allegations  by  smacking 
her  soundly  on  the  cheek  and  then  executing 
a  double  pigeon  wing.  This  completed,  he 
struck  an  attitude. 

"Will  you  tell  us  what  it  is  all  about?"  de- 
manded Mrs.  Simmons. 

"I've  found  an  Eliza,"  declared  the  Admiral. 

"Found  an  Eliza?    Where?" 

"Why,  in  one  of  these  two  young  women. 
It's  like  bread  cast  on  the  waters  coming 
back." 

"I  don't  believe,  Admiral  Simmons,"  replied 
his  wife,  "that  you  have  been  casting  any 

152 


IN  A  NEW  WORLD 

young  women  on  the  waters  or  into  them 
either,  but  I  can  see  some  hope  in  your  idea." 

"Hope,"  shouted  the  Admiral,  "hope? 
Well,  I  should  say  so.  Why,  it  would  be  in- 
gratitude for  them  to  refuse.  The  only  ques- 
tion is,  which  shall  it  be?" 

"The  dark  one,  of  course,"  said  his  wife; 
"she  has  enough  confidence.  The  other  girl  is 
a  beauty,  but  her  complexion  doesn't  fit 
Eliza,  and  I  believe  an  audience  would  scare 
her  to  death." 

"We  could  make  the  complexion  fit,  easy 
enough,"  replied  the  Admiral,  "but  you  cannot 
fit  confidence  on  any  one  that  comes  along. 
That's  something  we  must  consider." 

"Some  shows  have  two  Uncle  Toms  and  two 
Topsies,"  suggested  Ella  Brown,  Mrs.  Sim- 
mons' sister,  who  was  the  Topsy  of  the  com- 
pany. *  *  Why  can 't  we  have  two  Elizas ! ' ' 

The  other  members  of  the  company  who  were 
gathered  around  declared  this  a  capital  idea 
until  the  Lawyer  Marks  reminded  them  that  if 

153 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

they  had  two  Elizas  they  would  have  to  have 
two  of  the  others  in  order  to  preserve  the  ar- 
tistic balance  of  the  company.  The  Admiral 
scented  danger  in  this  at  once.  To  double  his 
company  meant  he  must  double  his  pay-roll  and 
this  was  not  at  all  to  his  mind.  "Pshaw,"  he 
said,  ' '  that  dark  girl  that  did  the  talking,  she 's 
the  one.  I  know  an  actress  when  I  see  one  and 
she'll  make  a  great  Eliza  and  a  great  Eliza 
she'll  be.  That's  settled." 

"It  isn't  settled  by  her,"  said  Mrs.  Sim- 
mons, "and  to-morrow  night  we  arrive  at  Port 
Buffington.  "We'll  have  a  good  house  there  and 
we  must  give  a  good  show. ' ' 

"We'll  all  persuade  her,"  said  Ella  Brown, 
"and  she'll  do  it  anyway.  Who  ever  saw  a 
girl  that  didn  't  want  to  go  on  the  stage  1 ' ' 

It  may  be  that  there  are  those  who  might  be 
able  to  have  answered  Ella's  question,  nega- 
tively, but  among  these  itinerant  actors  such  an 
avowal  would  have  been  like  the  doing  of  a  mir- 
acle. The  girls  that  crossed  their  paths  were 

154 


IN  A  NEW  WOKLD 

all  ambitious  to  pass  the  dividing  line  made  by 
the  footlights. 

And  so  it  was  when  Lettie  and  Vivian  at 
length  awoke  they  found  an  eager  crowd 
about  them  urging  Lettie  to  take  the  part  of 
Eliza  in  the  play  the  next  evening.  Lettie 's 
swift  mind  grasped  the  situation  at  once. 
Here  was  employment  dropped  at  her  feet  when 
she  was  approaching  the  great  world  beyond 
with  but  scanty  means.  While  she  was  seek- 
ing to  avoid  publicity  rather  than  court  it,  this 
traveling  about  might  bring  her  the  more  easily 
by  some  strange  accident  into  touch  with  Tom. 
Admiral  Simmons  was  prolific  in  his  promises, 
if  she  would  only  accede.  She  and  Vivian 
could  both  live  on  the  boat  and  if  she  was  seek- 
ing employment  he  could  offer  her  more  than 
inexperience  could  find  in  the  city.  He  brushed 
aside  the  difficulties  she  offered.  In  his  anx- 
iety he  forgot  as  did  the  others  to  question 
them  more  about  their  strange  advent  upon  the 
boat.  He  only  thought,  would  she  accept? 

155 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

This  Lettie  did,  and  under  the  coaching  of  sev- 
eral members  of  the  troupe  she  was  soon  study- 
ing the  part  of  Eliza. 


156 


VIVIAN  OF  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 


CHAPTER  XIV 

VIVIAN   OF   THE   FOOTLIGHTS 

THE  next  two  months  passed  very  swiftly 
for  the  two  girls  whose  entrance  into  a 
world  new  and  strange  to  them  had  been  so 
sudden.  Artistic  requirements  in  the  Ad- 
miral's company  were  simple  and  Lettie  was 
found  to  be  equal  to  them.  Vivian  helped  by 
caring  for  the  costumes  of  the  company  as  well 
as  with  any  other  task  which  came  to  her  hand. 
In  the  plantation  scene,  which  was  the  tour  de 
force  of  the  play,  she  even  appeared  on  the 
stage  as  one  of  the  cotton  pickers.  She  had 
remonstrated  at  this  when  it  was  proposed  to 
her,  but  the  Admiral  was  so  urgent  that  she 
gave  way.  It  was  a  trial  at  first  for  her  to  ap- 
pear before  an  audience,  though  her  part  re- 
quired little  action  and  contained  not  one  line 

159 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

for  her  to  speak.  The  season  was  one  of  great 
prosperity  for  the  company.  The  little  cities 
and  towns  welcomed  " Uncle  Tom"  and  his 
cabin  as  if  the  ancient  play  were  a  new  claimant 
from  a  metropolitan  success.  The  Admiral 
grew  happier  and  stouter  than  ever  as  the  star 
of  his  fortunes  rose  higher  and  higher  in  the 
sky. 

"One  more  season  like  this,"  he  was  wont  to 
chuckle,  "and  we  can  give  our  farewell  tour, 
though  heaven  knows  what  I  should  do  if  I 
were  to  divorce  myself  from  my  art." 

With  all  the  other  members  of  the  company, 
Vivian  and  Lettie  were  on  the  best  of  terms. 
The  life  was  a  hard  one,  with  its  constant 
moving  from  place  to  place,  and  there  was  little 
time  between  engagements  for  else  than  rest. 
The  little  family  of  the  stage  and  sea  had  scant 
time  to  visit  with  each  other,  for  no  sooner  was 
one  date  fulfilled  than  there  came  the  work  of 
gathering  together  their  possessions  and  mak- 
ing the  next  port  with  all  possible  speed.  The 

160 


VIVIAN  OF  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

spare  moments  were  given  to  sleep  and  prepa- 
ration for  the  next  curtain  to  go  swinging  to- 
ward the  flys. 

Vivian  and  Lettie  spoke  but  little  of  the  hope 
that  each  bore  in  her  heart  that  somewhere, 
sometime,  they  would  find  Tom,  but  it  was  ever 
their  dream.  That  Tom  was  a  wanderer  on 
the  face  of  the  earth,  friendless  and  alone,  was 
the  thought  that  saddened  Vivian  more  and 
more  as  the  days  passed.  Sometimes  breathed 
deep  in  her  heart,  sometimes  trembling  on  her 
lips,  but  there  always,  was  the  prayer  that  she 
might  find  him,  and  then  go  away  to  some  place 
with  him  where  they  both  would  be  forever 
safe  from  molestation.  Of  Lettie 's  quest  for 
her  brother  she  seldom  thought.  It  was  only 
for  his  good,  this  was  a  settled  conviction;  but 
once  the  quest  was  fulfilled  the  strange,  silent, 
reliant  woman  would  go  her  way,  for  whatever 
had  been  the  strength  of  the  passion  Tom  had 
shared  with  her,  the  blood  of  a  father  forbade 
eternally  its  further  protraction. 

161 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

Again  at  times  there  would  come  into  her 
vision  her  island  home.  Tears  filled  her  eyes 
as  its  white  cliffs  and  trees  bending  in  the  soft 
breezes  came  before  her.  Must  she  ever  be  an 
exile  from  its  shores  f  Should  she  never  again 
tread  its  beloved  paths  or  listen  to  the  wind  as  it 
hummed  and  whirled  across  its  face?  What 
had  she  done  that  life  had  been  so  unkind  to 
her?  It  was  reflections  like  these  that  filled 
Vivian's  mind  during  these  busy  days  that 
went  by  so  quickly  they  seemed  to  take  to  them- 
selves wings. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  the  two  months  that  Let- 
tie  found  herself  one  night  unable  to  take  up 
her  part.  For  a  week  she  had  been  struggling 
with  a  cold  that  grew  until  she  found  herself 
in  the  clutches  of  a  raging  fever.  She  would 
have  attempted  the  part  at  all  hazards  if  Mrs. 
Simmons  had  not  recognized  that  such  an  ef- 
fort was  too  much  for  her,  and  firmly  led  her 
away  to  bed  and  medical  treatment.  Admiral 
Simmons  acknowledged  the  justice  of  the  deed, 

162 


VIVIAN  OF  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

though  he  was  thrown  into  despair.  The  house 
was  crowded.  The  hour  for  the  curtain  to  rise 
was  at  hand.  To  return  the  people  their  money 
and  send  them  away  meant  a  loss  he  did  not 
relish.  He  paced  about  the  stage  and  dress- 
ing-rooms, watched  by  his  sympathetic  com- 
pany, trying  to  solve  the  problem  to  which 
there  seemed  no  solution  at  hand.  Finally  he 
stood  in  the  center  of  the  stage  and  cried, 
"It's  no  use;  we'll  have  to  send  them  away." 

Vivian,  who  had  been  studying  in  the  wings, 
stepped  upon  the  stage  and  said,  "Mr.  Sim- 
mons, I  think  I  can  take  the  part." 

The  Admiral  whirled  about  like  a  top. 
"You,  bless  you,  could  you?" 

"Yes,  I've  heard  Lettie  read  the  lines  so 
often  I'm  quite  sure  I  could,  if  you  are  willing 
to  let  me  try." 

"Let  you  try,"  cried  the  Admiral  joyously; 
"why,  if  you  just  stagger  through  the  part  it's 
all  we  want.  Well,  this  is  luck!" 

And  so  the  players  either  arranged  them- 
163 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

selves  in  their  places  about  the  stage  or  sought 
their  dressing-rooms  and  the  curtain  went  up. 

It  had  cost  Vivian  all  the  courage  she  pos- 
sessed to  make  her  offer.  She  had  a  strong 
realizing  sense  of  her  obligations  to  Admiral 
Simmons  and  his  company,  and  it  was  only  a 
duty  she  felt  was  owed  to  him  that  steeled  her 
to  the  task.  She  knew  the  words  and  to  have 
kept  silent  when  those  who  had  been  so  kind 
to  her  were  in  need  of  her  services  would  have 
been  base  ingratitude,  and  so  suppressing  her 
fears  she  clinched  her  teeth  and  essayed  the 
role. 

The  opening  scene  of  the  play  is  familiar  to 
the  civilized  world:  the  little  cabin  on  the  old 
plantation  with  Uncle  Tom  and  Aunt  Chloe  be- 
fore the  blazing  log  in  happy  content;  the 
sudden  swinging  open  of  the  door  and  entrance 
of  Eliza,  who  tells  of  the  sale  of  Uncle  Tom  and 
her  boy,  all  the  while  clasping  the  little  fellow 
to  her  breast, — such  a  mixture  of  sorrow,  bit- 
terness, fear,  terror,  pain,  all  thrown  into  the 

164 


VIVIAN  OF  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

scales  at  once.  "When  the  cabin  door  swung 
back  and  Vivian  came  panting  through,  the 
spirit  of  the  crushed  mother  seemed  to  seize 
her.  She  forgot  the  audience,  the  stage,  the 
lights,  and  only  saw  the  devoted  slaves,  who 
were  her  friends.  She  only  remembered  the 
mother  whose  boy  had  been  sold  away  from 
her,  and  in  piteous  tones  she  told  her  story. 
The  scene  lasts  but  a  moment;  Uncle  Tom's 
refusal  to  accompany  her  in  flight,  her  own 
desperate  resolve  to  brave  any  terror  rather 
than  lose  her  boy,  her  hurried  farewell,  the 
swinging  once  more  of  the  door,  and  a  wave  of 
the  hand  as  Uncle  Tom  holds  aloft  the  fagot 
that  lightens  her  out  into  the  night,  and  then 
she  is  gone,  but  in  that  brief  moment  Vivian 
sounded  the  gamut  of  a  soul  in  sorrow  and 
swept  everything  along  with  her.  It  was  not 
only  the  audience  that  was  spellbound.  The 
Admiral  almost  forgot  his  part  of  Uncle  Tom, 
he  was  so  carried  along  by  the  intensity  of  her 
acting.  The  members  of  the  company  not  on 

165 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

during  the  act  gathered  in  the  wings  and 
watched  with  rapt  wonder.  The  curtain  had 
scarcely  fallen  on  the  scene  when  Admiral  Sim- 
mons went  rushing  after  Vivian  crying,  "An 
actress,  an  actress  right  here  in  our  midst  and 
we  didn't  know  it." 

Vivian  was  embarrassed  by  the  praise  the 
other  members  of  the  company  heaped  upon 
her.  She  was  not  aware  of  having  acted  well. 
The  moment  she  stepped  upon  the  stage  she  felt 
herself  sink  into  her  part,  and  the  audience 
was  not  there  as  far  as  she  was  concerned. 
Some  of  the  sorrow  she  had  known  was  in  her 
voice,  and  as  she  recounted  the  woes  of  the 
poor  slave  woman  in  the  lowly  cabin  it  went  out 
across  the  footlights  and  found  an  echoing 
chord  in  the  hearts  of  the  audience.  It  was  sel- 
dom that  the  little  city  where  the  troupe  was 
playing  was  visited  by  the  best  that  dramatic 
art  had  to  offer.  Far  from  the  centers  of  popu- 
lation, where  the  stars  of  the  thespian  world 
glittered,  it  must  needs  be  satisfied  with  the 

166 


VIVIAN  OF  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

crumbs  that  fell  from  the  table,  but  the  audience 
was  none  the  less  quick  to  recognize  nature  at 
the  mirror,  and  it  awaited  the  advent  of  the 
fugitive  woman  again  with  eagerness. 

The  scene  at  the  river  tavern  is  the  one  in 
4 'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  that  gives  the  actress 
who  enacts  the  role  of  Eliza  what  slight  oppor- 
tunity the  part  affords  to  display  her  talent. 
From  the  moment  it  opens  until  its  culmination 
in  the  escape  across  the  Ohio  on  the  ice,  it  is 
so  melodramatic  that  the  utmost  skill  is  neces- 
sary to  make  it  convincing.  There  is  really  a 
world  of  feeling  and  pathos  in  the  desperate 
struggle  the  slave  woman  makes  for  her  child. 
Vivian  came  quietly  upon  the  stage,  clasping  the 
child  to  her  bosom.  An  outburst  of  applause 
greeted  her,  but  did  not  disturb  the  equanimity 
which  possessed  her  soul.  She  was  not  Vivian 
now.  She  was  the  fugitive  whose  part  she  en- 
acted. She  did  not  even  think  to  wonder  or  to 
be  astonished  at  the  ease  with  which  she  crossed 
the  stage  or  spoke  her  lines.  It  was  as  if  she  had 

167 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

found  her  place,  and  truly  she  had,  for  every 
movement  she  made  was  as  natural  as  grace 
could  make  it.  It  may  be  unbelievable  to  some 
that  a  girl  so  timorous  by  nature  could  by  one 
step  become  the  effective  artist  of  the  stage. 
To  those  who  have  studied  humankind  it  was 
only  an  added  testimony  to  a  demonstrated  fact 
that  when  one  comes  at  last  to  one's  element, 
no  matter  how  naturally  timid  the  character, 
at  once  one  is  as  much  at  home,  as  completely, 
as  is  the  fish  that  swim  the  waters  of  the  deep. 
Eliza  is  on  the  stage  but  a  moment  when  the 
rugged  woodsman  appears  and  discovers  her 
trouble.  With  what  trusting  winsomeness  she 
accepted  his  protection,  and  then  at  the  sound 
of  threatening  footsteps  how  quickly  she  slips 
into  the  adjoining  room,  pinning  all  her  hopes 
of  safety  in  his  loyalty  to  his  promise!  The 
slave  drivers  are  intent  on  searching  the  house. 
Phineas,  the  woodsman,  beguiles  them  with 
drink.  It  is  necessary  that  she  be  out  of  the 
house  at  once,  for  her  new  friend  sees  that  he 

168 


VIVIAN  OF  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

cannot  long  delay  her  pursuers.  She  is  in  the 
next  room  and  in  his  need  to  keep  the  men  in- 
terested there  is  no  opportunity  to  give  her 
direction.  Suddenly  he  begins  the  story  of  a 
slave  woman  and  her  child  tracked  by  slave 
drivers.  As  he  recounts  the  story  Eliza 
takes  the  cue  and  follows  his  relation  step  by 
step.  He  tells  of  the  poor  woman  cowed  with 
fear  in  the  next  room,  of  how  she  silently 
creeps  through  the  room  containing  her  ene- 
mies while  they,  busy  at  the  bar,  fail  to  per- 
ceive her,  and,  finding  her  way  to  the  door 
blocked,  how  she  mounted  the  chair  and  then  the 
table  and  disappears  through  the  window. 

Lovers  of  the  drama  know  only  too  well  that 
the  true  actor  and  actress  do  not  always  depend 
upon  the  spoken  word.  It  is  the  movement  of 
the  body,  the  suggestion  that  comes  from  a 
pause  or  a  slight  action  of  the  head,  a  hundred 
and  one  things  that  contribute  to  the  effective 
portrayal  of  the  character.  No  one  had  ever 
told  Vivian  this,  nor  could  she  have  expressed 

169 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

in  words  the  philosophy  of  it,  but  no  veteran 
of  the  stage  ever  practiced  it  more  completely 
than  she  did.  As  she  appeared  in  the  door- 
way, staggering  under  the  burden  of  the  child, 
and  then  ventured  into  the  room,  the  audience 
was  held  spellbound  for  fear  of  her  discovery. 
Her  progress  across  the  stage  was  almost  an 
agony  to  them.  And  when  she  sprang  lightly 
through  the  window  and  disappeared,  a  sigh  of 
relief  went  up  all  over  the  theater,  only  to  be 
succeeded  by  a  murmur  of  disappointment  when 
Haley,  glancing  out  of  the  window,  sees  her 
fleeing  toward  the  Ohio  and  sounds  the  alarm. 
And  so  it  was  when  the  scene  changed  and  re- 
vealed the  dark  waters  of  the  river  swollen  with 
cakes  of  ice.  Not  one  word  does  Eliza  utter  as 
she  takes  her  perilous  way  across  the  Ohio,  and 
yet  so  splendidly  did  she  carry  herself  in  this 
scene,  as  melodramatic  as  any  on  the  stage,  that 
the  house  rose  at  her.  The  curtain  rang  down 
amid  a  perfect  thunder  of  applause. 
If  her  friends  in  the  company  had  been 
170 


VIVIAN  OF  THE  FOOTLIGHTS 

amazed  at  her  success  in  the  first  scene,  they 
were  now  almost  transported.  There  is  much 
talk  of  thespian  jealousy,  but  surely  it  found 
no  place  here.  The  moment  the  curtain  hid  the 
audience  from  view,  they  were  upon  her  with  a 
perfect  avalanche  of  joy.  Mrs.  Simmons  held 
her  in  her  arms,  the  tears  glistening  in  her  eyes. 
"Oh,  you  little  darling,"  she  said,  "you  little 
darling,  what  an  artist  you  are."  The  other 
members  of  the  company  patted  her  and  covered 
her  with  confusion  so  rich  were  they  in  praise. 
As  for  the  Admiral,  all  that  he  could  do  was 
to  caper  up  and  down  the  stage  cutting  a  pigeon 
wing  here  and  there  and  crying,  "An  actress, 
by  Jove,  an  actress." 

All  this  time  the  applause  was  continuing  on 
the  other  side  of  the  curtain  and  it  would  not 
be  satisfied  until  Vivian  had  been  led  one — two 
— three — four — yes,  five  times  to  blush  and 
bow  to  those  whose  hearts  she  had  won. 

But  once  again  does  Eliza  appear  in  the  play. 
This  is  where  once  more  under  the  protecting 

171 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

care  of  her  husband,  George  Harris,  who,  too, 
has  escaped  from  his  master,  compassed  about 
by  the  rocks  of  a  mountain  defile,  they  fight  the 
battle  that  brings  them  victory  and  then  escape 
to  Canada.  Eliza  here  has  little  to  do,  but  the 
audience  could  not  forget  her  acting  and  wel- 
comed her  when  the  curtain  rose,  and  sent  her 
on  her  way  to  the  far  north  when  it  fell,  with 
more  outbursts  of  applause. 

When  the  curtain  fell  for  the  last  time  that 
night  and  as  the  crowd  filed  out  of  the  theater, 
all  talking  of  but  one  thing,  the  winsome  grace 
and  beauty  of  the  little  actress,  the  Admiral 
gently  led  her  to  the  stage,  where  the  company 
was  gathered,  and  with  a  majestic  air  none 
could  assume  better  on  occasion,  yet  with  benev- 
olence beaming  on  his  brow,  he  declared, ' '  Com- 
panions, let  it  be  long  remembered  that  the 
good  King  Thespis  has  this  day  crowned  this 
maiden  fair  as  a  princess  royal  and  heir  appar- 
ent to  his  throne." 


172 


THE  FACE  OF  A  FOE 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    FACE    OF    A   FOE 

VIVIAN  left  the  theater  alone  and  hurried 
toward  the  pier  as  soon  as  she  could  es- 
cape from  the  adulations  of  her  friends.  The 
equanimity  with  which  she  faced  the  footlights 
disappeared  when  the  curtain  fell,  and  her  em- 
barrassment grew  as  the  praise  increased.  It 
was  but  a  short  distance  to  the  landing  where 
the  boat  was  secured,  and  her  mind  was  so  taken 
up  with  the  events  of  the  evening  that  her  usual 
timidity,  which  would  have  prevented  her  ven- 
turing forth  alone,  was  forgotten,  and  after 
having  hurriedly  dressed  for  the  street  she 
slipped  out  of  her  dressing-room  and  outdoors 
unnoticed  by  the  others,  who  were  busy  them- 
selves in  doffing  the  costumes  of  the  play. 
The  theater  was  on  the  business  street  of  the 
175 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

town,  which  led  directly  to  the  water's  edge, 
whence  from  all  of  the  Great  Lakes,  vessels 
came  daily.  Vivian  had  come  within  a  block 
of  the  lake  when  as  she  passed  under  an  elec- 
tric street  lamp  she  became  conscious  of  some- 
one crossing  the  street  toward  her.  The  form 
of  the  man  seemed  familiar,  and  as  she  gazed 
she  saw  it  was  Jim  Hester.  For  a  moment  she 
hesitated,  and  then  seized  with  a  fear  that  was 
unreasoning  she  darted  straight  toward  the 
end  of  the  street  and  out  on  the  great  pier. 
Panic-stricken,  she  thought  she  heard  the  heavy 
footsteps  of  Hester  hurrying  after  her  and 
every  moment  she  thought  she  felt  his  hand 
upon  her  shoulder.  A  lake  steamer  was  just 
casting  off  as  she  bounded  on  the  pier.  In  her 
agony  of  terror  she  sprang  upon  its  deck,  which 
a  moment  later  was  entirely  free  from  the  dock, 
and  then  fainted  dead  away  and  would  have 
fallen  back  into  the  water  if  a  sailor  had  not 
caught  her. 

When  she  came  to  her  senses  the  lights  of  the 
176 


THE  FACE  OF  A  FOE 

little  lake  town  were  growing  dim  in  the  dis- 
tance and  she  found  that  those  aboard  the 
steamer  had  simply  taken  her  for  a  belated  pas- 
senger who  had  fainted  from  over-exertion  in 
catching  her  boat.  This  belief  she  was  quite 
willing  for  them  to  retain.  She  paid  her  fare 
to  Chicago,  which  she  found  to  be  the  boat's 
destination,  and  securing  a  stateroom  she  tried 
to  collect  her  thoughts,  which  had  been  BO  rudely 
scattered  by  this  latest  adventure.  It  was  diffi- 
cult for  her  to  do  this.  All  of  the  old  fear  that 
she  would  be  taken  back  to  Mackinac  to  face 
an  inquisition  which  would  worm  her  brother's 
confession  from  her  arose.  That  Hester  was 
on  this  mission  and  had  traced  her  to  this  point 
she  did  not  doubt.  That  he  had  fortunately 
been  unable  to  follow  her  on  the  boat  was  a 
comfort,  but  how  could  she  know  but  what  he 
already  was  tracing  the  boat  by  some  other 
means  and  that  at  its  very  first  stop  she  would 
be  confronted  by  emissaries  of  the  law,  to  whom 
he  had  telegraphed,  or  perhaps  he  might  be  able 

177 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

to  take  some  fast  train  and  reaching  one  of  the 
boat's  stopping  places,  ahead  of  her,  confront 
her  there  and  denounce  her  as  one  with  whom 
the  law  had  to  do? 

And  so,  torn  by  conflicting  donbts  and 
fears,  she  tossed  on  her  couch  and  the  sun  had 
commenced  to  tinge  the  waters  of  the  lake  with 
its  first  rays  before  she  at  last  sunk,  exhausted 
by  her  mental  struggles,  into  an  uneasy  sleep. 

Meanwhile,  Hester  was  far  away  on  another 
lake  steamer,  little  dreaming  that  he  had  been 
so  near  the  sister  of  his  rival.  He  had  searched 
every  nook  and  corner  of  his  old  haunts  in 
Canada  for  Lettie,  believing  firmly  she  had 
taken  refuge  there,  until  at  length  convinced  he 
was  mistaken  he  had  returned  in  a  very  ill-tem- 
per to  Mackinac,  hoping  to  hear  some  word  of 
her  there.  Here  he  could  learn  no  news  of 
either  Lettie  or  Vivian,  though  he  did  find  the 
island  folks  wondering  at  the  whereabouts  of 
George  Thorpe,  who  had  left  shortly  after  the 
two  girls  disappeared. 

178 


THE  FACE  OF  A  FOE 

Hester  did  not  linger  long  on  the  island. 
He  found  his  popularity,  which  had  never 
been  great,  had  still  further  waned,  and  so 
finding  employment  on  a  lumber  boat  he, 
too,  bid  farewell  to  the  fairy  isle.  His  boat 
had  stopped  for  a  load  of  lumber  at  the 
town  where  the  Admiral  and  his  company  were 
playing,  and  Hester  had  spent  the  day  there 
close  to  Lettie,  whom  he  had  traveled  so  many 
miles  to  find.  He  had  even  thought  of  attend- 
ing the  theater  in  the  evening,  but  fate,  so 
strange  in  its  dealing  with  men,  had  turned  his 
steps  elsewhere,  and  all  unknowing  an  oppor- 
tunity to  gratify  his  quest,  for  the  time  being, 
slipped  through  his  fingers.  At  the  very  mo- 
ment he  met  Vivian  his  mind  was  full  of  the 
island  tragedy,  and  more  particularly  of  Lettie, 
whom  he  was  mentally  resolving  to  make  suffer 
when  he  once  more  closed  his  fingers  upon  her. 
And  strange  fate  foiled  him  again  that  evening, 
for  a  little  while  after  he  passed  Vivian  he 
drew  close  to  the  Admiral's  craft,  where  Let- 

179 


VIVIAK  OF  MACKINAC 

tie  was  lying  on  a  sick  couch,  though  unlike 
Vivian,  Lettie  was  as  ignorant  of  Hester's  proi- 
imity  as  he  was  of  hers.  It  was  but  a  little  later 
than  this  that  his  boat  sailed  to  the  north,  and 
in  his  sullen  mind  never  did  chance  even  whis- 
per how  it  had  fooled  him. 

Though  it  was  unusual  for  Vivian  to  leave 
the  theater  alone,  the  fact  was  less  noted,  for 
she  was  in  the  habit  of  accompanying  Lettie, 
and  Lettie  was  not  there  to-night.  But  when 
they  sought  her  on  the  houseboat  to  continue 
their  congratulations  and  talk  all  over  again 
the  triumphs  of  the  evening,  she  was  not  to  be 
found.  They  did  not  wish  to  alarm  Lettie  and 
as  long  as  they  dared  they  withheld  Vivian's 
absence  from  her,  but  as  morning  came  and 
neither  their  vigils  nor  those  of  the  authorities 
of  the  town,  whose  help  they  had  enlisted,  were 
rewarded,  they  were  forced  to  turn  to  the  sick 
girl  and  ask  if  she  knew  of  the  whereabouts  of 
her  missing  friend.  Of  course,  she  did  not  and 
their  anxiety  was  increased. 

180 


THE  FACE  OF  A  FOE 

All  the  next  day  was  spent  by  the  members 
of  the  company  in  the  search,  the  engagement 
in  the  next  town  being  foregone,  but  when  night 
again  came  they  gave  up  in  despair,  and  leaving 
the  matter  in  the  hands  of  the  officers,  who 
promised  faithfully  to  continue  the  investiga- 
tion, they  moved  on. 

Lettie  was  well  enough  to  resume  her  part, 
though  only  her  sense  of  duty  to  the  Admiral 
and  her  knowledge  that  anything  she  herself 
could  do  to  find  her  friend  was  probably  use- 
less, prevented  her  from  remaining  behind. 
She  was  responsible,  she  felt,  for  Vivian's  ab- 
sence from  home,  and  this  added  to  her  burden. 
Moreover,  a  tender  friendship  had  grown  be- 
tween the  two  girls,  and  this  added  to  the  ache 
of  the  loss. 

As  the  weeks  passed  and  they  journeyed  from 
place  to  place  with  no  word  ever  coming  from 
Vivian,  most  of  the  company  came  to  believe 
she  was  dead.  So  loyal  were  they  to  the  young 
girl  whose  friendship  they  had  shared  that 

181 


none  of  them  ever  for  a  moment  charged  her 
with  deserting  them.  And  not  knowing  of  her 
enemy,  who  had  appeared  in  her  path  so  sud- 
denly and  frightened  her  away  from  them,  they 
could  reach  no  other  solution. 


182 


A  STRANGER  IN  A  GREAT  CITY 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A   STRANGER   IN   A   GREAT    CITY 

IT  was  almost  dark  the  second  afternoon 
when  the  lake  steamer  with  Vivian  as  a  pas- 
senger reached  its  pier  on  the  Chicago  Kiver. 
It  was  one  of  those  smaller  craft  that  plied 
along  the  shore  line  of  the  lake,  carrying  as 
well  as  passengers  considerable  freight,  most 
of  which  consisted  of  fruit.  Its  passage  there- 
fore had  been  more  tedious  than  that  of  the 
larger  steamers,  which  touch  but  one  or  two 
points  in  the  sweep  of  the  lake  from  the  straits 
to  the  river,  and  which  equal  in  time  taken  for 
the  journey  but  one  full  circle  of  the  sun.  As 
the  boat  stopped  at  port  after  port,  and  no  one 
armed  with  authority  appeared,  Vivian's  spirit 
rose.  With  each  stop  it  became  more  and  more 
evident  that  for  some  reason  Hester  had  not 

185 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

tried  to  follow  her  in  this  way.  As  her  courage 
grew  she  ventured  from  her  stateroom  to  the 
dining  room,  but  such  food  as  she  ordered  she 
partook  of  hurriedly,  fearing  there  might  be 
someone  on  board  from  the  island  who  would 
recognize  her.  Her  fears  were  unnecessary  on 
this  score,  though  her  sweet  and  winsome  face, 
pale  and  troubled  as  it  was,  did  not  fail  to  at- 
tract attention,  but  she  gave  no  'one  an  oppor- 
tunity to  gain  her  acquaintance.  As  the  boat 
neared  its  landing  in  the  great  city  some  of  her 
anxiety  returned,  for  it  was  possible  that  Hes- 
ter or  some  messenger  of  his,  might  be  awaiting 
her  there.  With  this  thought  she  hurried 
down  the  gang  plank  and  away  from  the  dock- 
yard, her  heart  beating  with  trepidation. 

It  seemed  too  good  to  be  true  that  she  had 
really  escaped  Hester.  Momentarily,  she  ex- 
pected the  touch  of  his  hand  upon  her  arm. 
Every  step  behind  her,  she  feared  might  be  his. 

Vivian's  spirit  was  not  that  of  a  coward.  In- 
experienced as  she  was,  and  unequal  to  the 

186 


A  STEANGEB  IN  A  GEEAT  CITY 

hurly-burly  of  the  noisy  world,  she  still  would 
have  been  brave,  if  the  troubles  she  sought  to 
avert,  had  been  her  own.  It  was  because  of 
the  hurt  she  feared  might  come  to  others  she 
loved,  that  she  was  sick  with  terror  at  the 
thought  of  the  man  from  whom  she  fled.  Her 
courage,  which  had  grown  on  the  boat,  again 
returned  as  she  reached  the  street  and  none  had 
sought  to  detain  her. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  found  herself  on  a 
broad  avenue,  given  largely  to  trade.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life  she  was  in  a  real  city,  and 
the  height  of  the  great  buildings  was  awe-in- 
spiring to  a  mind  so  unaccustomed  to  such 
sights.  In  the  fast  falling  dusk  they  seemed 
like  mountains,  but  mountains  without  the  trees 
and  bushes  and  green  life  that  smooths  their 
grim  majesty  into  beauty.  There  were  hun- 
dreds of  people  hurrying  along  on  both  sides  of 
the  streets,  but  she  had  never  felt  so  unutter- 
ably alone  in  all  her  life.  Everyone  was  in 
mad  haste.  They  seemed  to  be  so  self-centered, 

187 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

so  impervious  to  every  interest  but  their  own, 
that  the  heart  of  the  island  girl  failed  her  when 
she  thought  of  asking  any  direction. 

As  she  went  on,  the  street  became  more 
crowded  with  vehicles  of  every  description, 
while  overloaded  street  cars  passed  on  their 
way  with  noisy  clangor.  The  sidewalks  were 
swollen  almost  to  congestion  with  the  hurry- 
ing throng,  and  all  served  to  add  to  the 
girl's  bewilderment.  On  the  island  the  boom- 
ing of  the  waves  against  the  cliffs,  when  the 
winds  rose  in  the  straits,  had  been  like  solemn 
music  to  her,  but  this  noise  had  no  melody  in 
it,  it  was  harsh,  cruel  and  terrifying.  Seek- 
ing to  escape  it  she  turned  from  the  street  into 
another,  only  to  find  the  whole  thing  repeated. 
She  kept  on  because  to  her  simple  soul  there 
seemed  nothing  else  to  do,  and  by  turning  from 
one  street  into  another  she  at  last  found  herself 
in  a  quieter  part  of  the  city. 

Vivian's  head  was  throbbing  with  the  nerv- 
ous strain,  while  her  feet  ached,  for  they  had 

188 


A  STRANGER  IN  A  GREAT  CITY 

covered  miles  since  she  had  left  the  steamer. 
It  was  growing  dark.  Three  hours  had  passed 
since  she  had  started  on  her  aimless  quest.  If 
she  had  known  the  city  she  would  have  recog- 
nized the  portion  where  she  found  herself  as 
having  once  upon  a  time  been  the  home  of  its 
first  citizens.  To  her  unsophisticated  mind 
these  old  mansions  were  still  impressive,  but 
for  years  the  grade  of  tenants  had  been  on  a 
descending  scale  in  ownership  of  goods  and 
chattels,  and  the  edifice  where  once  the  society 
of  the  city  had  been  wont  to  assemble  was  now 
given  up  not  to  one  family,  but  to  five — eight — 
ten,  as  the  case  might  be,  and  the  size  of  the 
house  warranted.  Fretted  within  and  worn 
without,  she  gave  little  attention  to  these  things. 
Vivian  realized  she  must  find  a  place  to  spend 
the  night,  but  where  and  how  she  did  not  know. 
When  she  had  fled  onto  the  little  steamer  she 
had  a  small  sum  in  her  possession.  The  last  of 
this  had  been  used  in  paying  her  expenses  to 
Chicago.  She  would  not  turn  to  the  police,  one 

189 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

of  whom  she  met  every  now  and  then,  for  al- 
ways was  recurring  the  old  dread  of  having  her 
identity  discovered  and  being  taken  back  to  the 
island  to  testify  against  her  brother. 

In  her  long  wanderings,  she  thought  many 
times  of  her  friends  of  the  mimic  world,  who 
had  been  so  kind  to  her  in  these  recent  months. 
What  would  they  think  of  her  disappearance? 
Would  they  believe  she  had  willfully  deserted 
them?  Again  and  again,  there  recurred  to  her 
some  hope  of  returning  to  them.  Her  lack  of 
means  seemed  an  unsurmountable  barrier  to 
this  plan.  Now,  she  was  too  tired  to  plan,  she 
must  first  rest. 

But  she  had  reached  her  shelter,  though  she 
did  not  realize  it  until  she  found  herself  be- 
neath its  roof.  It  was  an  old  church, 
a  landmark  of  the  earliest  days  of  the  city's 
history.  It  was  almost  the  first  place  of  wor- 
ship of  any  pretensions  in  the  city,  though 
now  long  since  deserted  by  those  who  once 
found  within  it  the  consolations  of  religion. 

190 


A  STKANGEK  IN  A  GREAT  CITY 

It  stood  back  from  the  walk  some  fifty 
feet.  The  space  in  front  of  it  had  been  used  as 
a  graveyard  by  some  of  the  earlier  communi- 
cants and  a  few  of  the  tombstones  were  still 
standing,  though  many  of  them  had  fallen  and 
time  had  obliterated  most  of  their  inscriptions. 
Along  the  front  of  the  church,  even  with  the 
walk,  was  an  iron  fence  six  feet  high.  This 
fence  connected  at  each  end  with  board  fences, 
which  ran  to  the  rear  of  the  church  and  joined 
a  fourth  fence,  which  stood  but  a  few  feet  back 
from  the  church,  making  a  scant  yard.  To  the 
left  and  in  the  rear  of  the  church  the  space 
beyond  the  fences  was  used  for  a  large  lumber- 
yard, while  close  to  the  fence  on  the  right  was 
a  large  warehouse. 

When  Vivian  reached  the  iron  fence  in  front 
of  the  old  church  her  meager  strength  was  al- 
most gone.  The  gate  that  lead  up  the  pathway 
to  the  portals  of  the  church  was  ajar,  and  find- 
ing that  she  could  go  no  further  she  passed 
through  the  gate  and  up  the  pathway,  thankful 

191 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

to  find  a  place  to  rest,  even  though  it  was  on 
the  stone  steps  of  the  church.  As  she  reached 
the  door  the  last  ember  of  energy  remaining 
flickered  out  and  she  fell  forward  upon  the  three 
steps  and  knew  no  more. 


192 


THE  WITCH  IN  THE  CHURCH 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  WITCH  IN  THE  CHUKCH 

IF  the  old  church  on  whose  steps  Vivian 
sought  rest  was  deserted  and  almost  forgot- 
ten by  those  who  had  once  worshiped  there,  it 
was  not  uninhabited.  Ten  years  before  when 
the  congregation  had  grown  so  in  numbers  and 
wealth,  it  was  not  satisfied  with  less  than  a 
more  elegant  house  of  worship  in  a  more  refined 
part  of  the  city,  the  trustees  endeavored  to 
rent  or  sell  the  property  to  some  of  the  foreign 
populations  which  were  coming  into  the  neigh- 
borhood and  which  were  not  quite  so  exacting 
in  their  requirements  of  a  place  to  worship  God. 
They  had  succeeded  once  in  renting  it  in  this 
way,  but  the  history  of  the  second  congregation 
repeated  that  of  the  first,  and  as  it  grew  out 
of  its  first  estate  of  humility  and  economy 

195 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

it,  too,  moved  away  into  better  and  more 
fastidious  quarters.  After  this  the  trustees  had 
endeavored  to  sell  the  church,  but  the  section 
steadily  deteriorated  and  so  finally,  as  the 
taxes  were  not  high,  they  had  simply  held  on  to 
the  property  hoping  that  eventually  something 
would  turn  up  and  remove  what  had  become  a 
veritable  white  elephant. 

In  the  first  days  of  the  desertion  of  the 
church  they  found  that  leaving  it  without  at- 
tention of  any  kind  had  been  an  invitation  to 
the  rougher  element,  which  was  gathering  about 
it,  to  use  it  as  headquarters  for  all  sorts  of 
deviltries,  and  when  they  learned  that  its  un- 
solicited use  was  even  being  contemplated  for 
a  prize  fight  they  decided  to  find  a  caretaker 
for  it. 

While  they  were  in  this  state  of  mind  a  fur- 
rowed-faced  old  woman  applied  for  the  place. 
The  lines  and  wrinkles  on  her  countenance  were 
so  many  that  one  could  easily  believe  she  was 
a  hundred  years  old,  though  a  pair  of  black  eyes 

196 


THE  WITCH  IN  THE  CHURCH 

flashed  a  fire  that  betokened  unquenchable 
vigor.  She  was  nearly  six  feet  tall  and  straight 
as  an  arrow.  The  trustee,  to  whom  she  applied 
and  who  had  charge  of  the  matter,  had  thought 
to  ask  her,  when  in  answer  to  his  first  question 
he  found  she  meant  to  live  in  the  church  alone, 
if  she  did  not  fear  to  do  this,  but  after  a  few 
words  he  felt  it  unnecessary.  He  had  found 
as  grim  a  spirit  as  ever  crossed  his  path.  Nor 
did  it  seem  probable,  old  as  the  woman  was, 
that  she  would  be  unable  to  protect  herself  if 
the  necessity  arose.  Her  tall  frame  was  wiry 
and  though  the  flesh  was  scant  her  every  move- 
ment suggested  power.  Of  her  past  he  discov- 
ered little.  She  would  take  the  church  in  ex- 
change for  its  basement  rooms  as  a  place  of 
abode ;  she  would  see  to  it  that  it  was  protected 
from  vandals,  was  not  that  enough? 

He  did  find,  however,  that  though  she  was  not 
a  gypsy  herself  she  had  lived  for  a  time  with 
gypsies,  and  this  suggested  to  him  the  possibil- 
ity of  her  using  her  quarters  as  a  fortune-tell- 

197 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

ing  place,  and  this  he  declared  the  church  would 
not  permit.  The  woman  was  quick  to  tell  him 
that  if  she  made  the  church  her  home  she  pro- 
posed to  live  her  own  life  there ;  that  he  and  his 
people  could  not  expect  too  much  for  nothing; 
anyway,  that  if  she  wanted  to  tell  fortunes  she 
would.  The  trustee,  who  was  anxious  to  get  the 
matter  off  his  hands,  and  who  did  not  care  much 
anyway  what  she  did  as  long  as  she  provoked 
no  newspaper  scandal,  finally  compromised 
with  her,  allowing  her  to  do  as  she  wished 
within  her  own  apartments,  but  arranging  that 
no  sign  or  notice  of  her  vocation  should  appear 
on  the  outer  walls  of  the  building.  She 
shrewdly  said  that  the  less  publicity  she  had  the 
better  it  suited  her  purposes,  and  the  bargain 
was  struck.  Since  then  she  had  done  much 
as  she  wanted,  for  not  once  had  either  trustee 
or  anyone  else  appeared  to  bother  her,  though 
it  was  close  to  three  years  that  she  had  been 
their  tenant.  Nor  did  she  miss  by  the  absence 
of  a  sign  upon  her  door.  The  fame  of  Mother 

198 


THE  WITCH  IN  THE  CHURCH 

Ann, — for  only  by  this  name,  given  out  by  her- 
self, was  she  known, — grew  and  many  came  to 
discover  through  her  reputed  powers  their  fu- 
ture and  what  it  held  for  them. 

Mother  Ann  was  alone  in  her  apartments  in 
the  church,  busily  engaged  in  polishing  some 
beautiful  seashells  of  unique  form  and  con- 
siderable size.  From  time  to  time  she  would 
stop  to  place  a  shell  to  her  ear  and  then  a 
shadow  of  satisfaction  would  cross  her  face. 
Suddenly  she  stopped,  attracted  by  a  sound 
from  the  entrance  to  the  church.  She  rose 
muttering,  "It  may  be  someone  who  wishes  me 
to  draw  his  planet,"  and  reaching  for  a  lamp 
she  made  her  way  to  the  door.  On  opening  the 
door  she  at  first  saw  no  one.  Then  she  lifted 
the  lamp  above  her  head  and  stepping  out  on 
the  steps  peered  into  the  darkness.  A  moan 
at  her  feet  caused  her  to  look  down  and  dis- 
cover the  form  of  the  unconscious  girl.  A 
shake  of  the  shoulder  brought  no  response. 
The  soothsayer  placed  the  lamp  on  the  ground 

199 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

and  gathering  up  her  unexpected  guest  carried 
her  back  into  a  room  on  the  other  side  of  the 
church  from  whence  she  had  been  at  work, 
where  she  placed  her  on  a  couch.  She  then 
secured  a  lamp  and  holding  the  light  so  it  would 
shine  on  the  girl 's  face  she  examined  it  intently. 
"She  has  been  by  the  wind.  I  can  see  trouble 
there.  Trouble,  trouble,"  she  whispered  to 
herself.  Then  she  reached  out  and  from  a 
stand  took  a  shell  much  like  those  she  had  been 
polishing  in  the  other  room.  She  pressed  the 
conch  to  the  brow  of  the  girl  for  a  moment  and 
then  placed  it  to  her  own  ear.  Listening  in- 
tently to  it,  her  face  expressionless  all  the 
while,  she  seemed  to  read  the  story  of  the  stran- 
ger and  again  she  muttered,  ' l  Trouble,  trouble, 
trouble. '  * 


200 


OLD  FRIENDS  MEET  AGAIN 


CHAPTER  XVIH 

OLD   FBIENDS   MEET  AGAIN 


THORPE  was  hastening  along 
through  one  of  the  business  thorough- 
fares of  Chicago  as  fast  as  a  blinding  snow 
storm  would  permit.  A  cold  northeast  wind 
had  hurried  great  masses  of  snow  clouds  down 
upon  the  city  and  the  white  feathery  flakes  were 
falling  faster  than  the  street  cleaners  coul'd  cart 
them  away.  The  city  had  become  a  familiar 
place  to  the  stalwart  young  farmer,  who  had 
been  there  most  of  the  time  since  he  had  left 
the  island.  All  this  time  he  had  been  searching 
for  Vivian.  Though  he  had  received  no  en- 
couragement and  found  absolutely  no  trace  of 
her  he  persisted,  nor  would  he  leave  the  city, 
both  because  he  knew  of  no  better  place  to 
seek  the  island  girl  and  because  he  had  an  un- 

203 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

explainable  conviction  that  if  he  found  her  at 
all  he  would  find  her  there. 

It  had  been  a  weary  and  disheartening  search, 
with  never  the  least  trace  to  encourage  him. 
Every  morning  he  had  arisen  with  fresh  deter- 
mination and  every  evening,  as  tired  as  a  dog, 
he  had  gone  to  bed,  his  mind  as  resolved  as 
ever,  to  continue  his  search  to  the  end. 

Thorpe  had  never  realized  the  warmth  of 
his  affection  for  Vivian  until  he  had  lost  her 
the  morning  he  went  in  search  of  the  boat  to 
carry  her  away  from  Mackinac.  Since  that 
time  it  had  been  almost  irresistible  and  though 
he  did  not  know  her  attitude  toward  him,  he 
was  anxious  to  discover  her  and  give  her  the 
protection  he  felt  she  needed.  At  times  he 
trembled  when  he  thought  of  the  frail  girl  alone 
in  the  world  as  she  probably  was.  That  was  a 
phase  of  the  case  he  tried  to  banish  from  his 
mind.  He  had  seen  sights  since  he  had  come  to 
the  big  city  that  had  turned  his  blood  cold  and 
the  very  thought  that  she  might  be  surrounded 

204 


OLD  FKIENDS  MEET  AGAIN 

by  these  dangers  drove  him  wild.  So  he  was 
constantly  on  the  move  hoping  against  hope 
that  eventually  his  persistence  would  be  re- 
warded. At  times  Thorpe  believed  Vivian  was 
dead  and  despair  would  seize  him.  Then  he 
would  shake  off  this  fear  and  renew  his  hunt. 
.  One  day  he  stopped  at  a  crossing  for  a  mo- 
ment to  wait  for  an  opportunity  to  get  through 
the  procession  of  passing  vehicles,  which  were 
having  difficulty  with  the  banks  of  snow  and 
the  sharp  wind.  As  he  stood  there  two  women 
and  a  man  passed  him  and  made  an  effort  to 
break  through  the  carriages  and  reach  a  street 
car.  One  of  the  women  slipped  on  the  icy  pave- 
ment and  fell  prone  on  the  ground.  Thorpe 
sprang  past  her  two  companions  in  an  instant 
and  helping  her  to  rise  almost  dragged  her 
from  beneath  the  hoofs  of  two  truck  horses. 
The  woman  for  the  time  being  was  too  be- 
wildered to  say  anything  to  him,  but  the 
man  and  woman  with  her  commenced  to 
thank  him  volubly,  when  the  woman  stopped 

205 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

short  in  her  thanks  and  cried,  "Why,  it  is 
George  Thorpe!"  and  he  saw  at  once  it  was 
Lettie  Manette. 

It  was  like  a  benediction  to  both  of  them  to 
meet  someone  from  the  island,  though  George 
did  not  dream  that  Vivian  had  left  with  Lettie 
and  that  she  had  been  with  her  for  weeks  after 
their  disappearance. 

Lettie  followed  her  exclamation  with, 
"George,  have  you  found  Tom?  Do  you  know 
where  he  is?" 

"No,  I  have  searched  for  him  and  for  his 
sister  Vivian  for  months  but  can  find  no  trace 
of  either." 

Her.e  Admiral  Simmons,  for  it  was  he,  hav- 
ing succeeded  in  soothing  his  wife,  whom 
Thorpe  had  rescued,  commenced  to  thank  him. 
again,  and  this  time  he  was  joined  by  Mrs. 
Simmons,  who  had  found  herself  more  fright- 
ened than  hurt.  Lettie  introduced  them  and  on 
finding  that  Thorpe  was  an  old  friend  of  Let- 
tie  from  the  island  they  insisted  that  he 

206 


OLD  FRIENDS  MEET  AGAIN 

should  accompany  the  three  of  them  to  the 
Simmons  home  on  the  west  side  of  the  city. 
Thorpe  was  ready  to  do  this,  especially  when 
Lettie  told  him  that  though  she  did  not  now 
know  of  Vivian's  whereabouts  they  had  left 
the  island  together  and  had  been  together  for 
some  time  afterward. 

They  had  reached  the  Simmons  home  before 
Lettie  finished  her  recital  of  what  had  taken 
place  since  the  night  George  had  left  Vivian 
concealed  in  Sugar  Loaf.  He  learned  now  of 
Vivian's  experience  after  he  had  left  her  and 
how  she  outwitted  the  two  ruffians.  Lettie 's 
story  of  their  experience  on  the  lake  and  of 
their  meeting  Admiral  Simmons  and  his  people 
and  of  their  subsequent  life  as  members  of  a 
dramatic  company  was  all  surprising.  Lettie 's 
sickness  had  prevented  her  from  seeing 
Vivian's  triumph  on  the  stage,  but  the  Admiral 
told  of  it  graphically,  though  he  could  not  do  so 
calmly. 

"Just  to  think,"  he  declared  to  George,  as 
207 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

he  had  to  the  members  of  his  family  and  troupe 
many  times  since  Vivian's  disappearance, 
' '  that  we  should  have  found  a  young  girl  with 
remarkable  powers  as  an  actress  and  then  the 
very  earth  should  seem  to  open  and  swallow 
her." 

Lettie  told  of  the  subsequent  search  for 
Vivian.  The  Admiral  had  hired  several  men, 
who  spent  days  scouring  the  country  round- 
about but  they  discovered  absolutely  no  trace 
of  the  lost  girl.  Mrs.  Simmons  declared  that 
she  had  believed  from  the  first  that  when  Vivian 
had  sought  to  reach  their  boat  that  night  alone 
that  she  had  made  a  misstep  and  had  fallen 
into  the  lake  and  that  the  currents  had  carried 
her  away.  The  Admiral  and  Lettie  were  un- 
willing to  believe  this.  They  could  not  bring 
themselves  to  give  up  forever  their  friend, 
though  every  other  avenue  of  reasoning  only 
brought  them  to  a  dead  wall. 

In  the  ordinary  case  the  problem  would  have 
been  solved  by  believing  that  Vivian  had  for 

208 


OLD  FRIENDS  MEET  AGAIN 

some  unknown  reason  decided  to  leave  them, 
but  to  those  who  knew  her  this  was  impossible. 
Lettie,  especially,  had  come  to  know  the  island 
girl  and  had  long  ago  recognized  how  foreign 
her  spirit  was  to  that  of  the  great  world.  Let- 
tie  knew  that  to  Vivian  the  great,  rushing,  tu- 
multuous world  was  like  an  unexplored  and  wild 
jungle  which  babes  playing  in  the  woods  had 
come  upon,  and  that  its  effect  upon  her  was 
much  the  same  as  the  effect  of  the  unknown  and 
dark  forest  would  be  upon  the  wandering  in- 
fants. No  daughter  of  the  island  in  the  straits 
had  ever  drunk  more  deeply  of  its  sweet  spirit 
and  this  new  life  into  which  she  had  been  thrust 
was  so  strange  to  all  that  she  had  ever  known 
that  she  could  not  grasp  it.  All  this  had  been 
revealed  to  the  more  experienced  girl  in  the 
weeks  she  had  been  with  the  sister  of  Tom  Sum- 
mers. 

After  the  party  was  settled  in  the  Simmons 
home,  George  soon  learned  what  there  was  to 
know  of  Lettie 's  experience  after  the  disap- 

209 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

pearance  of  Vivian.  The  loss  of  Vivian  had 
so  stirred  her  that  she  had  thrown  off  her  sick- 
ness and  was  able  to  resume  her  place  in  the 
company.  During  the  autumn  and  the  early 
winter  they  had  continued  to  play  the  small 
towns  of  northern  Wisconsin,  but  when  the 
lake  had  commenced  to  fill  up  with  ice  and  the 
houseboat  could  afford  them  but  little  protec- 
tion against  the  strong  breezes  and  waves  of 
old  Michigan,  the  Admiral  had  closed  the  sea- 
son and  returned  to  Chicago.  It  had  been  the 
most  profitable  one  he  had  ever  had  and  with 
the  proceeds  he  was  able  to  control  a  small 
theater  on  the  west  side  of  the  city,  and, 
strengthening  his  company,  he  gave  stock  com- 
pany performances  that  thus  far  were  meeting 
his  every  expectation. 

Lettie  had  been  given  a  place  in  this  com- 
pany and  had  become  quite  a  favorite  with  the 
clientele  of  the  house.  She  had  made  a  slight 
change  in  her  name,  being  known  as  Lettie 
Mann,  for  she  deemed  this  precaution  neces- 

210 


OLD  FEIENDS  MEET  AGAIN 

sary  on  account  of  Jim  Hester,  though  she  had 
not  heard  one  word  of  him  since  she  had  left 
and  the  thought  of  him  chilled  her  blood,  iron- 
hearted  though  she  was.  The  Simmonses  had 
taken  a  great  fancy  to  the  reserved  dark  girl 
and  had  insisted  on  her  sharing  their  home  with 
them,  the  more  so  when  they  found  she  had  no- 
where else  to  go.  This  regard  was  mutual ;  for 
Lettie  had  come  to  know  the  sterling  worth  of 
her  friends.  To  some  extent  she  had  intrusted 
them  with  her  secret.  She  had  explained  that 
Vivian's  brother  had  been  in  trouble  and  had 
left  his  home  and  that  for  this  reason  Vivian 
had  been  forced  to  leave,  too,  for  fear  of  being 
used  as  a  witness  against  her  brother.  She 
added  a  little  to  this  explanation,  but  it  was 
satisfactory  to  the  Simmonses,  who  were  of  the 
kind  that  used  no  magnifying  glass  to  pry  into 
the  affairs  of  their  friends.  Lettie  was  dear 
to  them,  as  Vivian  had  been.  That  was  enough. 
They  were  greatly  concerned,  though,  over 
the  health  of  Lettie.  As  the  weeks  passed,  in- 

211 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

domitable  though  she  was,  it  became  evident 
that  something  was  wearing  her  spirit  away. 
It  was  difficult  to  get  her  to  acknowledge  this, 
but  they  had  finally  persuaded  her  to  see  a  phy- 
sician. His  diagnosis  was  not  satisfactory 
even  to  himself,  and  they  had  made  a  second 
engagement  with  him.  This  time  the  medical 
man  had  said  to  Lettie,  ''Young  woman,  the 
trouble  with  you  primarily  is  not  physical. 
You  have  something  that  you  are  worrying 
about  and  the  effort  you  are  making  to  sup- 
press your  anxiety  is  wearing  you  out.  I  know 
you  are  holding  yourself  well  in  hand  but  I 
warn  you  that  you'd  better  throw  your  trouble 
to  the  winds  or  there's  going  to  be  an  explo- 
sion. ' ' 

Lettie 's  friends  were  quick  to  see  that  the 
physician  had  struck  the  keynote  and  Lettie 
herself  did  not  attempt  to  deny  it,  though  she 
said  nothing.  It  was  on  their  return  from  the 
second  visit  to  the  physician  that  the  accident 
occurred  that  resulted  in  them  meeting  George 
Thorpe. 

212 


OLD  FRIENDS  MEET  AGAIN 

George  was  quick  to  discover  all  this  him- 
self, even  while  Lettie  was  recounting  to  him 
the  events  of  the  past  months.  To  him  it  was 
an  evidence  of  the  trouble  she  had  borne  since 
the  death  of  her  father.  He  reasoned  that  no 
greater  tragedy  could  come  into  a  woman's  life 
than  to  have  her  lover  take  the  life  of  her 
father,  and  to  have  this  come  to  a  girl  like 
Lettie,  who  under  a  calm  exterior  was  capable 
of  the  strongest  feelings,  must  be  terrible.  He 
pitied  her  with  all  his  heart.  But  the  word  of 
consolation  that  she  needed,  with  all  his  shrewd- 
ness, he  knew  not  how  to  say. 

There  came  to  him  in  his  talks  with  Lettie 
during  the  next  few  days  a  revelation  of  her 
eager  desire  to  see  Tom,  a  desire  she  had  first 
revealed  to  him  that  night  at  the  old  fort,  when 
they  stood  together  under  the  starry  heavens. 
What  could  possess  her  to  be  so  anxious  to  see 
the  slayer  of  her  father?  Obviously  she  did 
not  desire  harm  to  come  to  him.  And  though 
she  did  not  reveal  this  desire  by  any  specific 

213 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

word  it  became  more  and  more  evident  to 
George  that  this  one  thing  was  all  she  was  liv- 
ing for.  Why,  he  could  not  venture  even  a 
guess  and  so  he  tried  to  dismiss  it  from  his 
mind. 


214 


THE  VOICES  OF  THE  SHELLS 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   VOICES   OF   THE   SHELLS 

WHEN  Vivian  recovered  consciousness  she 
found  herself  alone  in  the  room  where 
Mother  Ann  had  carried  her.  It  was  some 
time  before  she  could  collect  her  thoughts  suf- 
ficiently to  remember  where  she  had  been  when 
the  faintness  had  seized  her.  The  room  in 
which  she  so  strangely  found  herself  was  small 
and  was  evidently  used  for  a  bedroom.  In 
addition  to  the  couch  on  which  she  was  resting 
there  was  a  bed  in  another  corner.  The  large 
windows  were  heavily  curtained  and  gave  her 
no  information  as  to  her  whereabouts.  The 
room  contained,  in  addition  to  the  furniture  al- 
ready mentioned,  several  rude  chairs,  a  table 
and  a  chest  of  drawers.  The  floor  was  uncar- 
peted  and  all  bore  the  evidence  of  either  ex- 

217 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

treme  frugality  or  quiet  poverty.  As  Vivian's 
senses  grew  calmer  she  recalled  how  she  had 
sought  the  shelter  of  the  church  steps  for  rest 
but  this  did  not  explain  to  her  where  she  now 
was  and  how  she  had  come  there. 

She  arose  from  the  couch  and  crossing  the 
room  opened  the  only  door  it  had.  Passing 
through  she  found  herself  in  a  hall,  and  from 
its  appearance  she  at  once  recognized  that 
she  was  probably  in  the  church  at  whose 
door  she  had  fainted.  Across  the  hall  was 
another  door  which  was  partly  open  and 
glancing  through  it  she  found  it  to  be  a  room 
of  much  the  same  size  and  shape  as  the  one 
she  had  left,  though  its  furniture  indicated  it 
was  used  for  a  kitchen.  The  hall  was  quite 
long  and  between  where  Vivian  stood  and  its 
end  toward  the  back  of  the  church  its  floor  was 
so  much  lower  that  there  were  three  steps  con- 
necting its  front  and  back  part.  In  front,  the 
hall  led  into  the  entrance  to  the  church  and 
here,  in  a  larger  hallway,  she  found  two  flights 

218 


THE  VOICES  OF  THE  SHELLS 

of  stairs,  one  on  each  side,  which  evidently  led 
to  the  auditorium,  which  was  upstairs.  She 
turned  the  heavy  knob  on  the  front  door  of  the 
church  but  found  the  door  had  been  locked. 
As  she  stood  irresolutely  a  low  sound  came  to 
her  from  the  other  end  of  the  hall.  She  lis- 
tened and  it  grew  into  a  solemn  croning,  falling 
and  rising  in  a  weird  rhythm.  It  was  inex- 
pressibly chilling  to  her,  standing  alone  in  the 
dark  hallway.  At  times  it  would  increase  in 
volume,  though  it  was  never  loud,  and  then  it 
would  almost  die  away  into  an  awesome  soft- 
ness. It  was  as  if  the  spirit  of  the  gloom 
which  surrounded  her  was  muttering  to  itself 
its  own  uncanny  secrets.  Spellbound  she 
waited  for  the  appearance  of  she  knew  not 
what.  But  nothing  came  and  at  length  the 
sound  died  away  entirely  and  the  silence  and 
the  dark  shadows  made  her  more  lonely. 

Vivian  gathered  all  her  courage  and  passed 
down  the  hallway  to  the  door  at  the  end.  It 
opened  easily  at  her  touch  and  as  she  passed 

219 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

through  it  the  croning  broke  out  again.  She 
found  herself  in  a  large  room,  so  large  it  might 
pass  as  a  small  hall.  Its  walls  were  heavily 
draped  in  black  and  its  only  light  came  from 
the  other  end  of  the  room,  where  on  a  slightly 
raised  platform  Vivian's  eye  was  caught  and 
held  by  the  figure  of  the  fortune  teller. 

Mother  Ann  was  seated  on  a  throne-like  divan 
which  rose  from  the  platform  covered,  as  was 
everything  in  the  room,  by  death-like  black 
drapery.  The  throne  of  the  witch,  for  such 
she  seemed,  was  surmounted  by  a  canopy  from 
which  hung  a  score  of  human  skulls.  To  in- 
crease the  weirdness,  tiny  lights  had  been  in- 
serted in  these  and  from  their  cavernous  sock- 
ets there  came  a  green  glow.  On  each  side  of 
the  throne  stood  tables  and  these  were  covered 
with  seashells  of  varying  size  and  beauty, 
though  all  of  them  were  of  the  chambered  va- 
riety. Before  the  strange  woman  was  a  cal- 
dron over  a  charcoal  stove,  and  into  a  bub- 
bling mass  which  filled  it  she  from  time  to 

220 


THE  VOICES  OP  THE  SHELLS 

time  cast  a  handful  of  a  powdery  substance 
which  flared  up  as  it  went  into  the  pot  and 
emitted  a  greenish  flame.  Each  time  she  fed 
the  caldron  it  sent  forth  unearthly  shadows 
which  scurried  about  on  the  dark  walls.  While 
she  watched  the  boiling  mass  the  woman  kept 
up  the  moody  intonation  which  had  drawn 
Vivian  to  the  room.  She  had  entered  so  noise- 
lessly that  she  was  not  observed,  and  where 
she  stood  the  darkness  was  so  thick  that  even 
the  sharp  eyes  of  the  strange  woman,  glistening 
like  black  orbs  in  her  aged  countenance,  did  not 
seem  to  search  out  the  intruder. 

As  the  incantation  continued  Vivian  had 
ample  opportunity  to  scrutinize  the  face  of  the 
sorceress.  The  flickering  light  revealed  that 
none  of  the  softer  virtues  lurked  there.  It 
was  a  visage  over  which  played  the  expres- 
sions of  cunning,  craftiness,  cupidity,  but  of  the 
generous  feeling  so  often  seen  in  the  lineaments 
of  women  there  stood  out  not  a  trace.  Vivian, 
who  now  came  in  contact  with  the  black  art  for 

221 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

the  first  time,  did  not  know  whether  the  in- 
terest displayed  by  the  strange  woman  was 
sincere  or  simulated.  Her  mind  was  so  alien  to 
the  mountebank  and  all  the  singular  practices 
by  which  this  ilk  deceives  even  itself  at  times 
that  she  was  only  held  in  terror  by  all  she  saw. 

A  gust  of  chilling  wind  came  from  somewhere 
and  it  bent  the  fingers  of  the  flame  in  the  caldron 
toward  her  and  then  she  knew  the  woman  had 
risen  from  the  divan  and  was  peering  through 
the  gloom  of  the  room  at  her.  Vivian  could 
feel  the  eyes  of  the  woman.  They  were  pene- 
trating and  compelling  eyes  and  they  drew  her 
toward  the  cloven  tongues  of  the  fire  in  spite 
of  herself.  Then  the  woman  addressed  her, 
but  before  she  did  so  she  selected  one  of  the 
shells  from  those  about  her  and  pressing  it  to 
Vivian's  brow,  as  she  had  done  before  in  the 
outer  room,  she  held  it  there  for  a  while  and 
then  placed  it  to  her  ear. 

"Listen,  girl,"  she  said,  "the  voices  of  the 
shell  tell  me  strange  things  of  thee.  Thou  art 

222 


THE  VOICES  OF  THE  SHELLS 

fair  and  young,  still  them  wantest  a  place  to 
rest  thy  head.  Under  waving  trees  and  near 
deep  waters  I  can  see  where  once  thou  didst 
abide.  The  sunshine  is  there  no  more.  Thick 
clouds  have  passed  over  the  place.  Evil  awaits 
thee  there.  And  so  in  distress  hast  thou  gone 
up  and  down  the  earth.  Hark,  the  whispering 
in  the  shell  grows  softer.  Thou  hast  been  led 
to  me.  Out  under  the  blue  blanket  I  found  thee. 
I  have  need  of  a  companion.  Art  thou  content 
to  stay?" 

To  the  trembling  girl  the  words  of  the  sor- 
ceress appeared  to  carry  knowledge  more  por- 
tentous than  they  did.  Vivian  was  ready  to 
believe  the  woman  knew  all  her  past.  Confused 
as  her  mind  became  she  retained  enough  of 
her  senses  to  comprehend  the  import  of  the  in- 
vitation. She  was  being  asked  to  stay  with 
this  awful  being,  who  seemed  to  her  as  if  she 
had  risen  from  the  pit,  so  frightful  was  her 
skill.  The  woman  approached  closer  to  her 
with  outstretched  hand  as  if  inviting  her  into 

223 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

communion  with  evil  powers.  She  swayed 
back  and  forth  for  a  moment  and  then  for 
the  second  time  lay  senseless  at  the  feet  of  the 
necromanceress. 


224 


THE  WITCH'S  SON 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  WITCH'S  SON 

TTIVIAN  was  ill  for  several  days  after  the 
*  scenes  she  witnessed  in  the  inner  chamber 
of  the  witch  woman,  for  so  she  had  come  to 
regard  her.  The  strain  had  become  too  great 
for  her  to  carry  longer  and  all  her  strength 
had  given  way  at  once.  When  she  came  to  her- 
self she  was  again  in  the  little  room  where 
she  had  been  when  she  was  first  taken  into 
the  church.  Mother  Ann,  less  forbidding  than 
she  had  been  in  the  grewsome  surroundings 
where  Vivian  had  first  seen  her,  was  minister- 
ing to  her  in  a  rough  way.  Vivian  realized 
in  her  weakness  that  she  had  come  to  a  point 
where  resistance  was  useless  and,  though  not 
entirely  free  from  the  terror  with  which  she 
had  first  viewed  her  strange  attendant,  she  re- 

227 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

signed  herself  to  whatever  might  come.  The 
old  woman  had  little  to  say  to  her,  contenting 
herself  in  bringing  her  the  brew  of  strange 
herbs  to  drink  and  giving  her  broths  and  nour- 
ishing foods  from  time  to  time. 

When  Vivian  was  able  to  sit  up  Mother  Ann 
entered  into  conversation  with  her  for  the  first 
time.  She  took  a  seat  beside  her  and  began 
by  saying,  "Girl,  I  have  no  care  to  pry  into 
your  concerns.  The  shells  will  tell  me  all  I 
wish  to  know.  And  now  that  you  are  more 
familiar  with  this  place,  strange  as  it  may  be, 
I  think  the  idle  fears  which  possessed  you  are 
giving  way.  I  want  you  to  stay  with  me;  for 
I  need  an  assistant.  If,  as  I  have  reason  to 
believe,  you  are  homeless  and  alone,  what  bet- 
ter can  you  do  than  stay!  And  if  for  some 
reason,"  the  old  woman  continued  furtively, 
glancing  at  her  from  under  her  eyebrows,  "if 
for  some  reason  you  wish  to  remain  in  secret, 
where  will  you  be  better  lost  to  the  world  than 
here?" 

228 


THE  WITCH'S  SON 

Vivian  felt  the  force  of  the  woman's  re- 
marks and  if  it  had  not  been  for  her  fears  of 
the  unseen  world  with  which  the  woman  seemed 
so  closely  in  touch  she  would  have  readily  as- 
sented, even  grasped  at  the  opportunity  offered 
her.  The  woman  seemed  to  read  this  in  her 
hesitation  and  continued,  "You  need  not  be 
troubled  by  the  mysteries.  Nothing  shall  harm 
you.  No  matter  what  the  mutterings  of  my 
enemies  may  be,  I  deal  not  with  the  black  art. 
The  voices  of  the  shells  gather  for  me  and  I 
but  serve  them.  And  if  you  do  not  stay  with 
me,  where  will  you  go?  Will  that  not  be  a 
problem  for  you  to  solve?" 

It  ended  with  Vivian's  consenting  to  stay, 
though  her  compliance  was  not  won  at  this 
first  conversation.  As  she  became  more  fa- 
miliar with  the  surroundings  she  came  to  be- 
lieve that  for  the  present  the  course  marked 
out  for  her  by  Mother  Ann  would  be  the  best 
to  follow.  She  knew  of  no  way  to  get  in  com- 
munication with  Lettie,  or  any  of  her  friends 

229 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

in  the  Simmons  company.  Believing  that  Jim 
Hester  had  traced  her  through  the  company 
was  another  reason  why  she*  would  not  have 
dared  to  make  her  whereabouts  known  to  them 
if  she  had  known  their  route.  She  felt  her- 
self completely  exiled  from  the  island.  Many 
times  during  the  past  months  she  had  longed 
to  write  a  simple  line  to  her  mother.  When 
she  pictured  her  loneliness  and  sorrow,  the 
agony  of  it  had  been  almost  unbearable.  But 
there  was  ever  the  dread  of  the  island  authori- 
ties coming  after  her  and  extorting  from  her 
the  words  her  brother  had  poured  into  her  ear 
at  the  end  of  that  last  day  she  had  spent  on  the 
cliff. 

The  strange  woman  was  pleased  with 
Vivian's  agreeing  to  stay  as  her  helper.  It 
would  be  saying  too  much  to  represent  that  the 
harshness,  inseparable  from  her  personality, 
was  lessened,  but  at  least  it  was  not  directed 
at  her.  Their  communications  were  altogether 
of  the  yea  and  nay  variety.  The  dominant  note 

230 


THE  WITCH'S  SON 

of  the  older  woman  was  bitterness,  of  the 
younger,  sweetness.  Though  they  had  nothing 
in  common,  they  did  not  clash. 

Vivian  began  her  duties  a  week  after  she 
first  came  to  the  church.  They  were  not  diffi- 
cult, her  chief  mission  being  to  usher  the  vis- 
itors of  the  fortune  teller  into  her  presence. 
Evidently  the  fame  of  Mother  Ann  was  spread- 
ing, for  the  number  of  those  coming  grew  day 
by  day.  It  is  more  than  likely  that  the  somber 
external  with  the  few  moss-covered  grave 
stones  and  the  iron  fence  lent  a  mystical  shade 
to  the  place  that  decreased,  not  one  whit  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  came,  the  auguries  of  its 
mistress. 

If  Vivian  had  been  aghast  at  her  first  visit 
to  the  inner  chamber  of  the  church,  it  was  be- 
cause she  was  inexperienced  and  unsophisti- 
cated rather  than  superstitious.  Once  within 
the  sanctuary  of  the  fortune  teller,  her  quick 
mind  readily  perceived  that  the  skulls,  ghostly 
lights,  caldrons  and  incantation  were  but  part 

231 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

of  the  machinery  by  which  Mother  Ann  gained 
her  effects.  This  knowledge  lessened  her  fear 
and  made  her  reconciled  to  her  lot.  What  ap- 
prehension remained  was  due  to  Mother  Ann 
herself,  rather  than  her  surroundings.  There 
was  no  association  between  the  two.  When 
she  was  not  busy  with  some  visitor,  the  fortune 
teller  was  forever  hovering  over  her  fires, 
croning  the  hours  away.  After  Vivian  con- 
sented to  remain,  the  witch  had  never  again  as- 
sumed as  friendly  an  attitude  as  she  did  at  that 
time.  Her  orders  were  few  and  having  in- 
structed Vivian  in  her  duties  she  seemed  to 
think  she  should  carry  them  out  with  no  further 
direction.  Vivian  had  a  feeling  that  as  long  as 
all  went  well  she  would  have  no  trouble,  but  woe 
to  her  if  she  ever  crossed  the  woman. 

Irregular  in  most  things,  the  priestess  of  the 
shells  had  regular  hours  for  the  reception  of 
her  customers,  for  she  was  a  thorough  believer 
in  being  fully  prepared  before  she  attempted 
to  presage  the  future.  Never  was  the  key  to 

232 


THE  WITCH'S  SON 

the  great  front  door  turned  until  Mother  Ann 
knew  that  every  bit  of  paraphernalia  of  her 
office  was  in  harmonious  agreement  with  the 
spell  she  was  about  to  spread.  When  the 
hour  came  Vivian,  arrayed  in  a  gown  of  black 
velvet  and  with  a  half  mask  covering  the  upper 
part  of  her  face,  took  her  station  at  the  outer 
door,  and  received  from  each  seeker  the  stated 
fee  of  admission  before  she  guided  them  to  the 
inner  presence.  She  had  not  relished  the  cos- 
tuming at  first.  It  made  her  feel  as  if  she 
were  part  of  the  imposture  of  the  veiled  room. 
But  Mother  Ann  had  insisted  and  she  had  given 
way.  The  mask  was  not  at  all  unwelcome,  for 
this  had  served  to  conceal  her  identity. 

Vivian  was  never  quite  able  to  determine 
what  her  mistress  did  hear  in  the  shells.  For 
them  she  maintained  a  reverence.  It  was  part 
of  her  duty  to  care  for  them,  and  as  she  grew 
used  to  polishing  their  surfaces  she  came  to 
love  them.  They  were  of  varied  forms  and 
hues.  Those  from  the  tropical  seas  were  of  a 

233 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

rare  beauty.  The  story  they  told  Vivian  when 
she  placed  them  to  her  ear  was  always  of  the 
sea  and  its  islands.  The  voices  that  their 
owner  pretended  to  hear  never  spoke  to  Vivian, 
but  they  nevertheless  spoke  a  language  the 
island  girl  could  understand.  For  hours  she 
would  listen  to  the  surging  of  the  waters  as 
they  beat  upon  the  shores  of  some  faraway 
land.  Mingling  with  their  roar  she  could  trace 
the  pathway  of  the  breezes  as  they  marched 
on  from  tree-top  to  tree-top,  as  she  had  heard 
them  do  so  many  times  in  the  woods  that 
crowned  her  own  island  home. 

If  the  shells  brought  homesickness  and  tears 
they  also  brought  her  comfort.  She  felt  they 
were  the  only  friends  she  had.  'At  times  she 
would  take  some  of  those  she  loved  the  most  to 
the  abandoned  auditorium  above.  Here  she 
was  always  alone,  for  Mother  Ann  never  trou- 
bled to  visit  its  empty  pews  and  voiceless  pulpit. 
Here  the  shells  took  on  a  softer  tone.  The 
sound  of  the  waters  was  as  it  used  to  be  on  those 

234 


THE  WITCH'S  SON 

quiet  summer  days  when  Vivian  would  lie 
prone  upon  the  cliff  and  hear  their  gentle  rip- 
pling come  up  from  below.  She  would  forget 
the  musty  furnishing  of  the  deserted  room,  and 
would  dream  as  she  used  to  dream  under  the 
gorgeous  sky  of  blue  and  gold.  And  so  the  days 
lengthened  into  weeks  and  the  weeks  into  months. 

One  morning  Mother  Ann  met  Vivian  and 
with  unusual  good  humor  she  said,  "I  have  a 
message  from  my  son,  whom  I  have  not  heard 
from  this  many  a  year.  He  is  coming. ' ' 

"When?"  asked  Vivian,  with  an  inner  sink- 
ing, for  the  harsh  and  menacing  mother  she 
knew  could  frame  for  her  no  favorable  picture 
of  her  offspring. 

"To-day  sometime,  and  perhaps,  my  pretty, 
he  may  take  a  notion  to  you.  He  has  an  eye  for 
a  bit  of  calico." 

This  unexpected  news  was  very  disturbing  to 
Vivian.  She  received  it  as  a  harbinger  of  evil. 
Try  as  she  might  she  could  not  shake  off  the 

235 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

premonition  that  the  coming  of  this  man  por- 
tended evil. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  she  heard 
the  voice  of  the  mother  telling  her  to  come 
down  from  the  upper  floor;  for  her  son  had 
come.  With  doubting  heart  Vivian  descended. 
As  she  approached  the  room  where  the  fortune 
teller  was  welcoming  her  son,  she  could  hear 
her  telling  him,  "Sure,  she  is  a  neat  slip  of  a 
girl.  You'll  set  your  heart  on  her,  I'm  sure." 

Vivian  reached  the  doorway  and  entered  the 
room.  Seated  by  the  table  was  Jim  Hester. 
The  recognition  was  mutual. 

'  *  By  all  the  gods ! "  he  ejaculated,  "  is  it  you  ? ' ' 
And  then  he  sprang  to  his  feet.  "Well,  this  is 
luck. ' '  Then  turning  he  addressed  the  fortune 
teller.  "Mother,  I've  been  scratching  the  earth 
for  this  wench  and  some  of  her  friends.  How 
on  earth  did  you  come  to  have  her  here?  There 
must  be  something  in  your  infernal  magic  after 
all." 

Then  without  waiting  for  an  answer  from 
236 


THE  WITCH'S  SON 

either  of  them  he  crossed  the  room  and  grasp- 
ing Vivian  by  the  wrist  he  demanded,  "And 
where  is  your  brother  and  Lettie  Manette? 
Tell  me  that,  will  you?" 

"I  do  not  know  where  they  are,  and  if  I  did 
I  would  not  tell  you,"  retorted  Vivian.  "Let 
go  of  my  wrist,  you  are  hurting  me." 

"I'll  hurt  you  worse  than  this  if  you  do  not 
answer  my  question.  Where  are  they?  Out 
with  it,"  and  he  emphasized  his  demand  with 
a  cruel  twist  of  her  arm  that  brought  out  a 
scream. 

"None  of  that,  none  of  that,"  cried  his 
mother,  hurrying  forward.  "You'll  rouse  the 
neighborhood.  Let  me  have  the  girl.  She'll 
tell  me." 

Hester  at  his  mother's  touch  released 
Vivian's  arm,  and  then  his  mother  demanded, 
"What  is  all  this  about,  anyway?" 

"About,"  answered  Hester,  "it's  about  a 
good  deal.  This  girl 's  brother  is  wanted  on  the 
island  for  murder.  He  tried  to  steal  away 

237 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

from  me  a  woman  I  loved  and,  when  her  father 
interfered,  he  killed  him.  Now,  her  brother  and 
the  daughter  of  the  murdered  man  have  run  off 
somewhere  together." 

"That  is  not  true,"  cried  Vivian,  "they  are 
not  together." 

"So,  ho,  so  you  do  know  where  they  are,  do 
you?  Well,  you  are  just  going  to  tell  me  or  I 
will  know  the  reason  why,"  and  he  advanced 
menacingly  toward  her. 

Vivian  was  nearer  to  the  door  than  either 
of  the  others  and  as  he  approached  she  sprang 
through  it  and  ran  up  the  hall  toward  the  front 
of  the  church.  Beaching  the  vestibule,  she 
tried  the  knob  only  to  find  the  front  door  was 
locked.  Hester  was  almost  upon  her  by  now, 
but  she  fairly  leaped  up  the  stairs  that  led  to 
the  floor  above.  Once  inside  the  auditorium 
she  slid  a  bolt  and  sank  in  a  pew  to  regain  her 
breath,  while  the  two  outside  stormed  and 
hammered  to  be  let  in. 

The  door  quivered  under  the  blows  that  Hes- 
238 


THE  WITCH'S  SON 

ter  dealt,  but  the  stout  oak  held.  Then  there 
was  a  crash  of  flying  glass  and  Vivian  looked 
up  to  see  him  coming  through  the  transom  over 
the  door.  She  ran  down  the  aisle  while  he  was 
unbolting  the  door  for  his  mother  to  get  in. 
Vivian  was  lighter  of  foot  than  either  of  them 
and  she  led  them  a  warm  chase  about  the 
church.  When  each  of  her  enemies  selected 
an  aisle  and  tried  to  run  her  down  in  this  way, 
she  bounded  from  pew  to  pew,  sometimes  run- 
ning along  the  narrow  railing  that  separated 
them  in  the  middle  and  sometimes  barely  touch- 
ing the  backs  of  the  pews  as  she  jumped  from 
one  to  the  other.  Her  two  pursuers  were  mad 
with  passion  by  this  time.  Mother  Ann  had  com- 
pletely forgotten  her  caution  and  was  scream- 
ing out  anathemas  of  the  lower  world.  Hester 
was  too  enraged  to  make  any  utterance,  but 
murder  gleamed  in  his  eye.  Thinking  the  way 
was  clear,  Vivian  made  a  dash  for  the  door,  but 
the  woman  flung  herself  in  her  way  in  time  to 
bar  the  passage.  The  girl  turned  to  the  pews 

239 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

again,  but  her  advantage  was  lost,  and  Hester 
came  leaping  at  her  and  before  she  could  make 
the  pew  he  had  her  in  his  clutches.  She  felt 
his  fingers  closing  around  her  throat  and  as 
they  did  he  gritted  his  teeth  like  a  wild  animal. 
She  looked  up  into  his  face  but  she  could  read 
no  mercy  there. 


240 


THE  STRUGGLE  IN  THE  CHURCH 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    STBUGGLE   IN   THE   CHUECH 

THE  Simmonses,  personification  of  hospital- 
ity as  they  were,  insisted  that  George 
Thorpe  should  stay  with  them  while  he  con- 
tinued in  the  city.  He  was  glad  to  do  this,  for 
he  felt  that  the  interest  which  Lettie  and  he 
held  in  common  was  shared  by  them.  Accord- 
ingly he  transferred  his  effects  from  the  hotel 
to  their  home.  He  had  been  with  them  a  fort- 
night and  each  evening  as  he  entered  the  door 
after  a  day  of  plodding  the  city,  Lettie 's  eyes 
would  meet  his  with  the  ever  questioning  query 
of  his  success.  It  was  fortunate  that  her  work 
as  a  member  of  the  stock  company  was  as  ar- 
duous as  it  was.  Each  week  a  new  part  had 
to  be  learned  and  this  helped  to  take  her  mind 

243 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

away  for  a  time,  at  least,  from  the  lost  brother 
and  sister. 

One  night  after  the  performance  they  were 
gathered  about  the  family  board  for  the  cus- 
tomary midnight  luncheon,  and  George  was  re- 
counting his  experiences  of  the  day,  and  de- 
claring he  was  almost  discouraged,  when  Mrs. 
Simmons  declared,  "I've  found  a  way.  Why 
not  go  to  the  fortune  teller!" 

All  but  Lettie  laughed  at  the  suggestion,  but 
Lettie  seconded  Mrs.  Simmons.  "Everything 
else  has  proved  futile.  Why  not?"  she  echoed. 

"Laugh,  if  you  want  to,"  continued  Mrs. 
Simmons,  "but  one  of  the  members  of  the  com- 
pany has  been  to  a  woman  that  has  told  her 
wonderful  things.  She  does  it  with  seashells." 

"I  do  not  want  to  hear  wonderful  things," 
declared  George ;  "all  I  want  to  know  is  where 
Vivian  and  Tom  are.  If  there  is  any  witch 
that  can  tell  me  that,  she  will  be  welcome  to  all 
I  possess.  Why,  I  cannot  sleep  nights  with 
the  thought  of  that  innocent  girl  all  alone 

244 


THE  STRUGGLE  IN  THE  CHUECH 

out  in  the  world."  He  hid  his  face  in  his 
hands. 

The  incident  closed  the  talk  for  the  night, 
but  the  next  morning  as  George  was  leaving 
the  house  Lettie  followed  him  to  the  door. 
"George,  I  have  the  address  of  that  fortune 
teller.  Why  not  try  it,  anyway?" 

"I  am  desperate  enough  to  do  anything,  but 
this  seems  so  simple." 

"I  want  you  to  try  this,  George.  I  cannot 
tell  why,  but  I  feel  that  something  good  will 
come  of  it.  If  I  felt  strong  enough  I  would  go 
myself. ' ' 

George  took  the  address.  He  pitied  Lettie, 
and  while  he  had  no  faith  in  the  experiment, 
he  felt  he  ought  to  go  to  please  her.  '  *  All  right, 
Lettie,  I  will  go,  but  do  not  count  too  much  on 
what  she  will  say." 

The  address  was  in  another  part  of  the  city 
and  it  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  he  ar- 
rived in  the  vicinity.  The  old  church  was  silent 
and  deserted.  He  thought  he  had  made  a  mis- 

245 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

take  until  a  passer-by,  who  knew  the  neighbor- 
hood, told  him  it  was  the  place. 

1  'Pound  on  the  door  hard  enough,"  he  said, 
"and  you'll  bring  her.  She's  always  there." 

George  profited  by  his  advice  and  knocked 
loudly,  but  to  no  purpose.  Now  that  he  had 
reached  the  home  of  the  reputed  witch,  his  zeal 
became  as  great  as  Lettie's,  and  he  looked 
around  to  see  if  there  was  not  some  other  way 
to  gain  entrance.  It  was  almost  a  religion  with 
Mother  Ann  (for  it  was  at  her  door  George 
was  standing),  never  to  allow  a  window  to  be 
opened  in  the  lower  part  of  the  church.  Hester 
had  disregarded  her  custom  when  he  had  first 
arrived  and  had  opened  the  window  in  the  room 
where  he  had  awaited  the  coming  of  his  moth- 
er's page,  and  had  drawn  back  the  heavy  cur- 
tains. At  his  mother's  protest  he  had  de- 
clared that  he  must  have  air,  and  Vivian's  en- 
trance had  cut  off  any  further  controversy. 

George  spied  the  open  window  and  as  it  was 
even  with  the  ground,  he  made  bold  to  step 

246 


THE  STRUGGLE  IN  THE  CHURCH 

through  it  and  found  himself  in  a  scantily-fur- 
nished room.  Finding  no  one  here,  he  went 
through  the  doorway  into  the  hall  and  then 
into  the  vestibule.  Here  he  heard  a  wild 
clamor  above.  He  took  it  for  some  perform- 
ance of  the  woman  he  had  come  to  interview, 
and  sat  on  one  of  the  lower  steps  of  the  stairs 
resolving  to  wait  until  she  was  ready  to  re- 
ceive him.  Then  a  woman's  voice  in  an  unmis- 
takable cry  of  anguish  rent  the  air,  and  he 
went  up  the  stairs  in  great  bounds.  A  woman 
with  her  back  to  him  was,  from  her  attitude, 
evidently  blocking  the  door.  Before  she  saw 
him  he  brushed  her  aside  as  if  she  were  a 
feather  and  rushed  into  the  room.  And  there 
he  saw  Jim  Hester,  braced  against  a  pew,  with 
a  girl  across  his  lap,  his  fingers  around  her 
throat,  bending  her  head  back  until  it  was  at  the 
very  point  of  breaking.  A  glance,  as  he  rushed 
on,  told  George  that  the  girl  was  Vivian.  It 
was  as  if  the  fury  of  a  thousand  men  were  let 
loose  when  his  arm  shot  out  and  Hester  went 

247 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

toppling  to  the  floor,  like  a  piece  of  lead. 
George's  arms  went  around  Vivian  and  lifting 
her  he  cried  hoarsely,  "Are  you  hurt,  Vivian? 
Are  you  hurt?" 

"Not  badly,"  she  panted.  "I  do  not  think 
I  am  badly  hurt,  but  take  me  out  of  here, 
George.  Take  me  out  quickly." 

He  did  not  stop  to  examine  the  inert  form 
at  his  feet  over  which  the  old  dame  was  wring- 
ing her  hands,  but  catching  Vivian  up  he  hur- 
ried out  into  the  street.  There  he  halted  a 
passing  cab  and  an  hour  later  when  Lettie 
opened  the  door  at  the  Simmons  home  to  let 
him  in  she  saw  he  had  Vivian  in  his  arms. 


248 


IN  A  CIRCLE  OF  FRIENDSHIP 


CHAPTER  XXII 

IN   A   CIRCLE    OF   FRIENDSHIP 

HAPPINESS  pervaded  the  little  home  of 
the  Simmonses.  Lettie  almost  forgot 
her  anxiety  to  find  Tom,  so  relieved  was  she  to 
have  Vivian  by  her  side  again.  The  Admiral 
was  almost  beside  himself  with  joy,  and  Mrs. 
Simmons  shared  this  feeling  with  her  good 
spouse.  George  Thorpe  said  little,  but  felt 
much.  He  knew  he  would  never  get  over  re- 
joicing that  he  had  arrived  at  the  fortune 
teller's  at  a  time  so  critical.  A  moment  more 
and  it  was  likely  Hester  would  have  killed 
Vivian.  As  it  was,  beyond  the  mental  strain 
to  which  she  had  been  subjected,  she  was  but 
little  hurt.  Again  with  her  friends,  she  was 
rapidly  getting  over  this. 
A  week  had  passed  and  no  word  had  been 
251 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

heard  of  either  Hester  or  his  mother.  Thorpe 
had  left  him  in  such  a  condition  that  he  had 
not  been  able  to  follow  them.  Admiral  Sim- 
mons was  strong  for  calling  on  the  law  to 
deal  with  the  fellow,  but  this  would  mean  the 
bringing  of  Vivian  to  the  front,  and  the  prob- 
able result  that  Hester  would  learn  where  Lettie 
was,  and  so  this  course  was  abandoned.  "When 
the  Admiral  had  pressed  the  matter,  Lettie  had 
said,  "I  have  every  reason  in  the  world  to  keep 
clear  of  Jim  Hester  until  we  find  Tom.  Then 
I  do  not  care  how  soon  I  meet  him." 

"Well,"  said  the  Admiral,  "have  your 
way,  but  it  does  seem  pestilential  to  let  a  ser- 
pent like  that  wander  around  on  the  public 
highway. ' ' 

The  Admiral's  mind,  however,  was  taken  up 
with  a  project  that  was  interesting  him  much 
more  than  bringing  Jim  Hester  to  justice.  He 
had  not  been  able  to  summon  courage  to  broach 
it  to  Vivian,  or  to  any  of  her  friends,  but  from 
the  moment  she  was  brought  to  his  house  by 

252 


IN  A  CIRCLE  OF  FRIENDSHIP 

George  Thorpe  he  was  eaten  up  with  eager- 
ness to  have  her  become  a  member  of  his  stock 
company.  It  would  be  the  glowing  triumph 
of  his  managerial  career  to  introduce  to  the 
public  such  an  actress  as  he  believed  Vivian 
to  be.  How  long  he  could  have  refrained  from 
the  subject  without  reaching  the  final  point  of 
tension  it  is  impossible  to  say,  but  Vivian  her- 
self all  unwittingly  opened  an  avenue  for  him. 
George  had  returned  to  the  island  with  mes- 
sages from  her  to  her  parents.  It  was  the  first 
opportunity  she  had  had  safely  to  communicate 
with  them,  and  a  great  burden  was  taken  away 
when  he  had  sailed  for  Mackinac. 

George  was  to  return  the  following  week 
with  news  from  home,  and  she  would  then  know 
whether  the  folks  there  had  heard  some  word 
of  Tom.  Her  mind  easier  with  these  cares  pro- 
vided for,  she  turned  to  the  problem  of  her 
future  in  the  city.  The  Simmonses  as  well  as 
Lettie  had  been  souls  of  generosity  in  their 
treatment  of  her.  This  she  appreciated  to  the 

253 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

full,  at  the  same  time  feeling  that  now  her 
strength  had  returned,  she  must  be  dependent 
on  them  no  longer.  So  when  Vivian,  hoping 
there  might  be  some  position  about  the  thea- 
ter which  she  could  fill,  asked  the  Admiral  for 
help  and  advice,  he  said,  striving  as  he  did  so 
to  conceal  his  delight,  "You  may  begin  just  as 
soon  as  you  wish.  I've  a  place  in  the  company 
for  you." 

"I  did  not  mean  that.  I  thought  you  might 
have  some  work  behind  the  scenes  or  in  the  of- 
fice. I  was  not  thinking  of  acting." 

"  Aye,  but  I  was.  The  stage  is  the  only 
place  in  a  theater  for  you.  Why,  my  dear,  you 
are  an  actress.  That  is  written  in  your  stars." 

Vivian  smiled.  "I  cannot  quite  believe  that. 
It  is  so  strange.  You  know,  I  have  never  been 
very  brave,  though  the  night  I  played  Eliza 
I  seemed  to  be  caught  up  and  carried  on  through 
the  part  in  spite  of  myself.  I  fear  I  would 
not  be  equal  to  it  again." 

"I'm  the  one  to  worry  about  that,"  replied 
254 


IN  A  CIRCLE  OF  FRIENDSHIP 

the  Admiral.  "If  you  join  my  company  be- 
cause I  insist  on  it  and  then  you  fail,  it  will  be 
my  fault.  Besides,"  he  added  diplomatically, 
"I'll  give  you  a  small  part  to  begin  with." 

"If  you  really  want  me  to,  I  will,"  she  an- 
swered. "I  must  do  something,  and  you  have 
so  much  confidence  in  me  you  inspire  a  little  in 
myself.  Since  I  have  always  kept  away 
from  people  it  seems  strange  to  be  facing 
an  audience.  That  other  night,  though,  the 
footlights  and  the  sea  of  faces  I  saw  across 
them  only  seemed  to  encourage  me,  and  it  was 
just  like  a  delightful  dream." 

"I  tell  you,  girl,  it  is  because  you  are  a  born 
actress.  Why,  you  love  those  footlights  just 
like  a  soldier  loves  the  smell  of  powder  or  a 
sailor  the  whiff  of  the  sea." 

When  Lettie  was  told  that  Vivian  had  con- 
sented to  go  on  the  stage  again  she  agreed  it 
was  a  wise  plan.  She  would  have  been  willing 
to  have  gone  on  indefinitely  sharing  her  earn- 
ings with  Vivian,  but  she  had  a  premonition 

255 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

that  her  waning  strength  would  not  warrant  her 
in  doing  so.  She  was  also  impressed  with  the 
Admiral's  account  of  Vivian's  acting  the  night 
she  was  sick  in  the  lake  town,  especially  as 
his  enthusiasm  was  confirmed  by  other  mem- 
bers of  the  company.  It  was  decided  that  the 
name  of  the  young  actress  should  appear  on 
the  bills  as  Miss  Vivian.  It  was  believed  this 
would  be  sufficient  to  conceal  the  knowledge  of 
whom  she  really  was  from  Hester  if  he  chanced 
upon  the  advertisement.  The  name  Vivian 
was  not  an  unusual  surname  and  would  meet 
the  requirements  of  the  case. 

Having  come  to  an  agreement  the  old  actor 
forgot  all  about  his  promise  to  give  Vivian  ' '  a 
small  part  to  begin  with.'*  He  had  been  plan- 
ning a  reviyal  of  '  '  The  Cricket  on  the  Hearth, ' ' 
in  which  he  was  to  play  Caleb  Plummer,  and 
Vivian  was  promptly  cast  for  the  part  of  Ber- 
tha, his  blind  daughter.  Mrs.  Simmons  was  to 
appear  as  Mrs.  Fielding  and  Lettie  as  May. 
While  it  was  the  custom  for  the  stock  company 

256 


IN  A  CIRCLE  OF  FRIENDSHIP 

to  revive  some  old  play  each  week,  when  a  pro- 
duction met  with  more  than  usual  favor  it  was 
continued  for  two  and  three  weeks  and  some- 
times longer  if  the  interest  of  the  public  war- 
ranted it.  The  Admiral  was  delighted  with 
the  rehearsals  and  declared,  "We'll  catch 
them  with  this.  It  is  going  to  be  a  record 
breaker." 

Vivian  approached  her  part  with  consider- 
able timidity,  which  lessened  as  she  grew  fa- 
miliar with  it  and  with  the  other  members  of 
the  company,  several  of  whom  were  new  to  her ; 
for  the  Admiral  had  recognized  the  need  of  a 
stronger  and  better  cast  in  the  city  than  he 
carried  with  him  on  his  barn-storming  tours. 
The  character  of  Bertha  was  well  suited  to  her 
soft  and  gentle  manner,  and  though  she  went 
through  her  part  at  the  rehearsals  very  quietly, 
all  the  members  of  the  cast  agreed  that  she 
would  give  a  satisfactory  performance.  When 
the  Admiral  heard  his  fellow  players  talking 
in  this  way,  he  said  little,  but  smiling  to  him- 

257 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

self  he  would  inwardly  observe:  "When  the 
curtain  swings  up  and  the  inspiration  of  the 
audience  gets  to  working,  that  girl  is  going  to 
surprise  the  natives. " 


258 


THE  PLAYER  GIRL 


CHAPTER  XXin 

THE  PLAYER  GIRL 

WHEN  George  Thorpe  returned  from  the 
island  and  found  that  Vivian  was  about 
to  make  her  debut  at  the  Admiral's  theater,  he 
was  nonplused.  One  of  the  things  he  had  been 
anxious  to  see  her  parents  about  was  their 
willingness  to  have  him  make  the  island  girl  his 
wife,  and  having  received  their  approval  he 
had  come  back  with  hope  battling  with  fear  in 
his  heart  to  make  his  appeal.  George  did  not 
know  whether  or  not  Vivian  loved  him.  He 
had  known  for  years  that  next  to  Tom  he  was 
closer  to  her  heart  than  any  other  young  man 
she  knew,  but  she  had  met  so  few  and  her 
world  had  been  so  small  that  this  gave  him  no 
great  confidence.  Recently,  since  trouble  had 
come  so  heavily  upon  her  and  her  people,  he 

261 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

realized  she  was  drawn  closer  to  him  than  ever, 
though  whether  this  was  a  strengthening  of 
the  old  sisterly  affection  or  something  deeper 
he  could  not  be  sure.  His  heart  had  swelled 
with  the  thought  of  all  the  hardships  and  sor- 
rows she  had  passed  through,  and  he  longed 
to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  shelter  her  hence- 
forth from  the  ruder  blasts  of  life's  storm. 

It  was  for  this  reason  that  he  was  disappoint- 
ed when  he  found  that  Vivian  was  to  appear  on 
the  stage.  The  stories  the  Simmonses  had  told 
him,  as  well  as  the  other  members  of  the  com- 
pany who  had  seen  Vivian  in  the  part  of  Eliza, 
had  convinced  him  that  she  was  gifted  with  un- 
usual histrionic  talent,  and  this  he,  knowing  full 
well  her  sweetness  and  winsome  ways,  could 
easily  believe.  His  love  for  Vivian  was  too  un- 
selfish to  make  him  wish  to  stand  in  her  way  if 
she  could  go  out  to  a  career  of  usefulness  and 
greatness,  but  he  was  disappointed  none  the 
less. 

The  news  George  brought  from  the  island 
262 


THE  PLAYER  GIEL 

was  very  comforting  to  Vivian,  for  she  learned 
that  her  parents  were  well  and  that  affairs  at 
home  were  happier  than  they  had  been  for 
many  a  day,  now  that  they  knew  their  daugh- 
ter was  safe  and  well.  The  crushing  sorrows 
of  the  year  had  told  on  them,  but  George 
had  brought  them  hope  and  confidence  that 
after  all  there  might  be  brighter  days  on 
ahead. 

Both  of  the  old  folks  had  sent  word  by  him  to 
Vivian  that  they  would  be  made  very  happy 
if  she  confided  herself  to  his  care,  but  this  part 
of  his  message  George  did  not  deliver  when 
he  found  the  turn  that  Vivian's  path  had  taken 
while  he  was  absent.  He  resolved  to  content 
himself  a  while  longer,  worshiping  from  afar. 
If  events  warranted  it  he  would  declare  him- 
self later. 

If  George  had  been  lacking  in  consideration, 
it  may  have  been  that  he  would  have  found  his 
prospects  with  Vivian  better  than  he  dared 
hope.  It  was  entirely  foreign  to  her,  to  allow 

263 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

any  man  to  see  first  the  feelings  of  her  heart. 
Whether  she  loved  George  was  a  question  she 
had  never  put  to  herself,  or  even  thought  of  in 
definite  form.  All  his  goodness  and  loyalty 
had  planted  in  the  garden  of  her  affections 
seeds  that  even  the  slightest  awakening  might 
germinate  into  love.  The  awakening  might 
have  come  if  George  had  brushed  aside  all 
thoughts  except  those  of  his  own  happiness,  and 
have  pressed  his  cause.  He  was  too  unselfish 
to  do  this,  unless  he  first  was  sure  that  Vivian's 
promise  of  artistic  success  would  not  mean 
more  to  her,  than  his  devotion. 

The  opening  night  for  the  "  Cricket  on  the 
Hearth"  came  and  the  theater  was  crowded  as 
it  was  to  be  for  many  a  night  after.  How  fa- 
miliar to  all  the  world  is  the  story  of  Caleb 
Plummer,  the  gray  old  toy  maker,  and  his 
blind  daughter,  Bertha.  The  story  of  his  all- 
absorbing  love  for  her  and  how  he  deceived  her, 
believing  she  would  be  happier  if  she  thought 
the  little  cracked  nutshell  of  a  house  was  an 
enchanted  home  with  gay  colors  on  the  walls 

264 


THE  PLAYER  GIRL 

and  shining  wood  in  the  beams  and  panels,— 
believing  that  he,  her  father,  was  still  young 
and  handsome  with  his  coat  of  bright  blue,— 
believing  that  Tackleton,  old  Caleb's  em- 
ployer, ill-natured  and  exacting,  was  the  guard- 
ian angel  of  their  lives,  his  harsh  words  being 
but  jests  to  make  them  merry.  The  story  of 
how  Bertha  came  to  love  the  Tackleton  her  poor 
old  father  painted  for  her,  and  how  she  became 
nearly  heart-broken  when  she  found  he  was 
to  marry  May  Fielding,  compelling  her 
father  to  tell  her  the  truth  of  how  he  had  mis- 
led her  to  make  her  happier. 

The  curtain  rose  and  soon  old  Caleb  was  on 
the  stage  with  his,  "Good  evening,  John. 
Good  evening,  mum.  Good  evening,  Tilly. 
Good  evening,  unbeknown.  How's  baby,  mum? 
Boxer's  pretty  well,  I  hope." 

The  Admiral  had  played  this  part  before  and 
he  was  a  prime  favorite  in  it  with  his  clientele. 
They  had  laughed  and  wept  with  him  as  the 
goodness  of  the  humble  toy  maker  and  his  ten- 

265 


derness  for  his  blind  daughter  became  as  vivid 
as  life  to  them. 

Bertha  does  not  appear  until  the  second  act. 
As  the  curtain  rises,  old  Caleb  is  seen  working 
on  a  toy  house,  while  he  soliloquizes  over  his 
growing  weakness  and  age  and  his  fear  that 
Bertha  will  discover  it.  A  door  swings  back 
and  Vivian  appears.  With  the  uncertain  step 
of  the  blind  she  crosses  the  stage.  Caleb  meets 
her.  This  is  a  new  member  of  the  company  the 
audience  has  never  seen  before.  Her  face, 
fresh  and  bright,  her  golden  hair,  her  grace  so 
charming  catches  them  at  once.  They  wish  her 
eyes  were  open.  They  would  like  to  see  them. 

And  then  they  listen;  she  speaks,  her  voice 
like  a  soft  silvery  bell,  and  as  they  hear  her, 
'  *  Father,  so  you  were  out  in  the  rain  last  night 
in  your  beautiful  new  great  coat,'*  they  are 
bewitched.  Nor  is  it  by  the  actress,  but  by  the 
blind  girl.  Vivian  has  become  Bertha  and  has 
sunk  all  of  herself  into  the  soul  of  the  girl  who 
cannot  see.  And  the  girl  has  become  at  once 

266 


THE  PLAYER  GIKL 

so  lovable,  so  delicate,  so  pathetic  that  Caleb 
has  not  read  half  his  line  before  the  low  mur- 
mur that  gathers  force  from  parquet  to  gal- 
lery bursts  in  loud  applause.  A  moment  later 
when  she  cries  out  her  delight  as  she  pictures 
how  her  father  must  look  in  that  blue  coat- 
that  bright  blue  coat — all  the  house  joins  in  her 
merriment  and  makes  the  rafters  ring,  and  then 
when  so  tenderly,  so  very  tenderly,  she  tells  of 
the  little  plant  beside  her  pillow  as  she  sleeps 
and  how  she  turns  it  to  the  sun  in  the  morning, 
they  weep  with  her  and  are  ready  to  curse 
Tackleton  for  his  hard  and  wicked  spirit.  And 
so  the  evening  swept  along,  until  the  long-lost 
brother  returns  at  last  from  the  golden  South 
Americas,  and  the  good  are  blessed  and  made 
happy,  the  wrongs  repented  and  all  are  as 
merry  as  the  wedding  bells  that  are  ringing  so 

gayly. 

The  play  is  over,  the  plaudits  have  ceased, 
and  the  audience  is  streaming  through  the 
aisles  into  the  streets.  As  they  pass,  George 

267 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

Thorpe  stands  to  one  side  and  hears  their  com- 
ments and  from  all  there  is  but  one  theme ; — the 
beauty  and  the  grace  of  the  girl  actress  who 
had  that  night  made  for  them  a  picture  of  the 
great  novelist's  Bertha  so  delightful  and  so 
precious  that  they  were  never  to  forget  it.  He 
shares  their  pleasure  with  them,  though  sorrow 
tugs  at  his  heart;  for  it  seems  to  him  that 
Vivian  is  farther  away  from  him  than  ever. 


268 


THE  PLAY'S  CLIMAX 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  PLAY'S  CLIMAX 

THERE  is  no  telling  how  long  "The  Cricket 
on  the  Hearth"  would  have  run  its  course 
at  the  theater  if  the  ever  versatile  Admiral 
had  not  become  possessed  with  another  idea. 
After  the  first  night  the  theater  was  thronged 
with  the  crowds  that  were  anxious  to  see  the 
new  star  that  had  come  athwart  the  dramatic 
sky.  The  critics  of  the  metropolitan  dailies 
came  hurrying  to  the  Admiral's  unpretentious 
play-house  to  view  this  new-risen  light,  and 
they  were  as  fulsome  in  their  praises  as  the 
most  undiscerning  patron  of  the  drama,  who 
judges  with  his  emotions,  rather  than  his  mind, 
could  wish.  Managers,  too,  came  scurrying 
from  everywhere,  and  their  advent  began  to 
be  followed  by  offers  so  pregnant  with  prom- 

271 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

ises  of  riches  and  fame  that  even  the  Admiral 
advised  Vivian  that  these  could  do  better  by  her 
than  he  could,  but  she  steadfastly  refused  them 
all.  It  was  about  this  time  that  he  determined 
that  before  the  season  closed  she  should  appear 
as  Juliet.  He  said  nothing  of  this  at  first, 
being  content  with  the  present  prosperity  that 
had  come  to  his  house  and  also  because  he  had 
no  member  of  his  present  company  to  whom 
he  was  willing  to  intrust  the  part  of  Borneo. 
While  he  was  thus  turning  the  matter  over  in 
his  mind,  he  met  an  old  theatrical  acquaintance 
whose  home  was  in  Denver,  but  who  was  on  a 
brief  visit  to  Chicago.  His  old  friend  had  seen 
Vivian  and  as  he  waxed  eloquent  in  his  eulogy 
of  her  the  Admiral  revealed  his  purpose  to 
him,  and  lamented  his  lack  of  a  Borneo. 

"Why,  I  can  tell  you  of  a  Borneo  that  you 
can  get.  He  has  been  playing  all  the  spring 
at  a  Denver  theater,"  his  friend  broke  in.  "He 
is  a  new  man  evidently,  but  one  of  the  best  ro- 
mantic actors  we  have  had  in  our  part  of  the 

272 


THE  PLAY'S  CLIMAX 

country.  He  is  handsome,  superbly  built,  and 
has  a  voice  full  of  melody.  He  will  make  you 
a  Borneo  that  will  match  Miss  Vivian  to  a  T." 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  the  Admiral,  getting  in- 
terested. 

"His  name  is  Vincent  Strong.  He  was  play- 
ing with  some  road  company,  the  rankest  kind 
of  barn-stormers,  too,  when  one  of  our  Denver 
managers  picked  him  up  and  he  has  proved  a 
jewel." 

The  Admiral  commissioned  his  friend  to  en- 
gage the  western  prodigy  for  the  part  of 
Eomeo,  if  possible,  and  then  he  returned  home 
full  of  his  project. 

If  Vivian  had  grown  up  with  the  stage  and 
had  an  inkling  of  its  traditions,  she  would  have 
suffered  the  fear  and  trembling  with  which  ex- 
perienced actresses  approach  the  part  of 
Juliet,  but  she  was  innocent  of  all  this.  She 
had  drawn  heavily  from  the  Admiral's  wealth 
of  stage  craft  and  was  ready  to  take  his  word 
in  all  matters  of  the  mimic  world.  So  she 

273 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

commenced  under  his  instruction  to  study  and 
learn  the  part  of  Juliet.  It  was  not  long  be- 
fore she  realized  the  deep  note  the  immortal 
bard  had  struck  when  he  limned  the  character 
of  the  pure  and  noble  Juliet.  Here  was  truly 
the  ideal  of  glorious  womanhood.  Vivian 
loved  the  daughter  of  the  Capulets  at  once  and 
threw  her  heart  and  soul  into  a  study  of  ro- 
mance's fancy.  The  Admiral  was  ever  at  her 
elbow  with  suggestion  or  criticism  and  long 
before  the  date  was  set  for  the  first  rehearsal 
she  was  well  versed  in  her  part.  Then  came 
the  word  that  Vincent  Strong  would  come  and 
play  Romeo. 

The  date  for  the  opening  night  was  an- 
nounced, the  advertisements  were  spread  and 
the  company  commenced  rehearsals  in  earnest. 
The  actor  from  the  West  did  not  appear  at  the 
first  rehearsals  and  later  it  was  found  that  he 
could  not  obtain  a  release  from  his  Denver 
manager  in  time  to  be  at  rehearsals  at  all. 
Telegrams  and  letters  passed  each  other 

274 


THE  PLAY'S  CLIMAX 

swiftly,  but  the  western  manager  was  obdurate 
and  the  disgusted  Admiral  finally  decided  that 
Strong  would  have  to  get  along  with  the  dress- 
rehearsal,  which  was  to  take  place  the  after- 
noon of  the  evening  which  would  witness  the 
first  performance.  Strong  had  played  Borneo 
for  several  weeks  quite  recently  and  would  be 
prepared  for  the  part.  But  this  was  not  to  be 
all  the  trouble.  The  last  afternoon  came  and 
with  it  a  telegram  from  Strong.  His  train  had 
been  delayed  and  would  not  arrive  in  Chicago 
until  nine  o'clock  that  night.  The  seats  were 
sold  out  and  the  gallery  gods  were  even  now 
gathering  in  line  at  the  entrance  to  the  gallery, 
so  anxious  were  they  for  choice  positions  to 
view  what  an  eavesdropper  might  have  heard 
them  declare  was  going  to  be  an  event  in  the 
•theatrical  world.  To  await  the  arrival  of  the 
actor  meant  to  delay  the  play,  and  this  the 
veteran  manager  did  not  want  to  do.  "We 
might  wait  an  hour,"  he  declared,  "and  then 
the  infernal  train  would  be  late  and  we  would 

275 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

be  everlastingly  dished.  But  in  the  name  of 
holy  Jerusalem,  what  shall  we  do?" 

Vivian  was  quick  to  meet  the  situation. 
"Let  someone  double  for  the  first  act.  Mr. 
Strong  will  be  here  in  time  for  the  second." 

"The  very  thing  if  we  have  the  man,"  cried 
the  Admiral.  "Is  there  a  Borneo  here?" 

The  actor  who  was  cast  for  Friar  Laurence 
declared  that  in  his  younger  years  he  had 
played  the  part,  though  now  the  lines  were 
scarcely  in  his  memory. 

"That  is  nothing,"  cried  the  Admiral,  "you 
can  learn  the  part  for  the  first  act  between 
now  and  night  easily,  and  with  a  youngish  wig 
you  will  make  a  gallant  Borneo.  Vivian,"  and 
he  made  a  sweeping  bow  to  her,  "I  knew,  my 
dear,  you  were  an  actress  down  to  the  marrow, 
but  this  is  my  first  introduction  to  you  as  a 
stage  manager.  You  are  a  wonder. ' ' 

A  telegram  was  forwarded  to  Strong,  telling 
him  of  the  arrangement.  A  carriage  was  to 
meet  him  at  the  train  to  carry  him  from  station 

276 


THE  PLAY'S  CLIMAX 

to  footlights  with  all  speed.  The  Admiral 
even  urged  him  to  get  into  the  baggage  car 
and  open  his  trunks  and  dress  his  part  there, 
if  possible. 

The  first  act  of  the  play  went  off  smoothly 
enough.  The  Admiral  had  made  a  little 
speech  before  the  curtain  ascended,  ex- 
plaining to  the  audience  the  predicament  and 
begging  their  indulgence,  which  they  were  feel- 
ing too  good-humored  to  refuse  and,  in  truth, 
so  kindly  that  the  temporary  Borneo  was  given 
a  hand  that  made  him  blush  with  pleasure.  A 
telephone  message  to  the  Admiral  told  him  that 
Strong  was  on  his  way  to  the  theater  in  a  car- 
riage, costumed  and  ready  to  step  on  the  stage 
the  moment  he  passed  through  the  stage  door. 

In  a  box  somewhat  back  and  in  the  shadow 
so  that  their  presence  might  not  distract  their 
beloved  friend,  sat  George  Thorpe  and  Lettie, 
eager  for  the  second  act.  In  the  arrangement 
of  the  play,  this  was  the  balcony  scene  of 
Shakespeare's  incomparable  offering  to  the 

277 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

shrine  of  lovers  of  all  future  ages.  Lettie  had 
been  cast  for  the  part  of  Lady  Capulet,  but  her 
strength  had  so  worn  away  that  a  week  before 
she  had  had  to  give  way  to  someone  else.  To- 
night she  felt  stronger  than  she  had  for  weeks. 
Though  the  corner  of  the  box  where  she  sat  was 
dark,  George  could  see  the  gleaming  fire  in  her 
eyes. 

Behind  the  scenes,  the  Admiral  waited  at  the 
stage  entrance  until  a  carriage  drove  up. 
"He's  here,"  he  shouted,  "ring  up  the  cur- 
tain." Up,  up  it  went,  and  Capulet 's  orchard 
lay  spread  before  the  spectators,  and  from  a 
balcony  window  they  caught  now  and  then 
glimpses  of  Juliet  as  she  hovered  near  the 
casing.  And  then  Eomeo  entered.  Vivian 
peered  down  through  the  lattice  work  of  her 
window  to  see  the  newcomer  and  to  hear  his 
words.  Deep  and  resonant  sound  the  lines, 
"He  jests  at  scars  who  never  felt  a  wound." 
It  was  the  face  and  the  voice  of  her  brother 
Tom. 

278 


THE  PLAY'S  CLIMAX 

George  and  Lettie  in  their  box  start  up.  It 
is  their  friend.  It  is  the  long-lost  Tom.  It  is 
with  difficulty  they  restrain  themselves.  He, 
all  unconscious  of  the  nearness  of  his  loved 
ones,  continues  his  rhapsody.  Vivian  above 
him  in  her  balcony  holds  her  beating  heart  and 
represses  the  rapturing  cries  that  are  choking 
in  her  throat.  "Tom,  Tom,  Tom,"  she  can 
scarcely  keep  them  still.  In  a  moment  she 
must  speak,  and  what  will  she  do  then?  What 
will  her  brother  do?  Mrs.  Simmons,  who  is 
playing  the  part  of  nurse  and  who  is  at  her 
side,  observes  her  agitation  and  thinking  it 
comes  from  the  excitement  of  the  stage,  tries  to 
soothe  her.  Meanwhile  below  comes  clear  and 
musically  the  words, 

"Two  of  the  fairest  stars  in  all  the  heaven, 
Having  some  business,  do  entreat  her  eyes 
To  twinkle  in  their  spheres  till  they  return. 
What  if  her   eyes   were   theirs,   they   in  her 
head? 

279 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

The  brightness  of  her  cheek  would  shame  those 

stars, 

As  daylight  doth  a  lamp ;  her  eye  in  heaven 
Would    through    the    airy    region    stream    so 

bright 
That  birds  would  sing  and  think  it  were  not 

night. 
See,  how  she — " 

He  had  reached  these  words  when  a  figure 
strange  to  the  play  of  "Romeo  and  Juliet" 
sprang  upon  the  stage  and  cried, '  *  He  is  a  mur- 
derer, arrest  him ! ' ' 

The  intruder  was  Jim  Hester. 


280 


THE  SKEIN  UNTANGLED 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE    SKEIN    UNTANGLED 

r  I  ^HE  audience  was  in  an  uproar.  It  was 
-L  evident  even  to  those  unfamiliar  with  the 
play  that  this  man  in  modern  garb  was  not 
part  of  it.  He  must  be  a  lunatic,  and  many 
feared  for  the  safety  of  the  actor,  whose  ap- 
pearance and  voice,  though  he  had  scarcely 
uttered  a  dozen  lines,  had  won  instant  favor 
with  them.  Two  officers  had  been  standing  at 
the  door  and  no  sooner  had  the  supposed  mad- 
man appeared  than  they  started  forward  and 
were  over  the  footlights  and  upon  the  stage 
before  the  curtain  came  swinging  down  in  an- 
swer to  the  command  of  the  Admiral,  who  was 
almost  beside  himself  at  the  intrusion. 

Tom    stood    as    transfixed    at    the    appear- 
ance of  Hester.     He  had  hesitated  when  the 

283 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

Chicago  engagement  was  offered  him,  for  he 
felt  it  was  a  little  closer  to  his  old  home  than 
his  safety  warranted,  but  the  opportunity  had 
been  so  promising  that  he  could  not  resist  it, 
and  scattering  discretion  to  the  winds,  had 
come*  And  now  at  the  very  eve  of  his  arrival 
fate  had  brought  Hester  to  the  theater  and  he 
stood  disclosed. 

As  he  stood,  he  felt  soft  arms  circle  about 
his  neck  and  he  found  himself  looking  down 
into  the  face  of  Vivian,  his  sister. 

" Vivian,  you?"  he  ejaculated. 

"Yes,  Tom,  dear  Tom.  Oh,  I  am  glad  to 
see  you,  but  why  did  you  come  ? ' ' 

In  the  meantime  the  officers  with  the  as- 
sistance of  the  Admiral  and  half  the  company 
were  trying  to  remove  Hester  from  the  stage, 
still  believing  him  mad.  But  he  had  fortified 
himself  on  a  raised  elevation  in  the  garden 
scene  and  with  the  drop  at  his  back  and  a 
heavy  piece  of  stage  furniture  in  his  hand  he 
kept  them  at  bay.  "Listen  to  me,  will  you," 

284 


THE  SKEIN  UNTANGLED 

he  shouted.  "Listen  to  me.  I  tell  you  that 
man  is  not  any  Vincent  Strong,  as  his  name 
runs  on  your  playbill.  I  recognized  him  the 
minute  he  set  foot  on  the  stage.  He  is  Tom 
Summers  and  he  is  wanted  for  the  murder  of 
Louis  Manette  on  Mackinac  Island." 

Still  they  believed  him  mad  and  still  he  iter- 
ated and  reiterated  his  words,  the  meanwhile 
keeping  them  off  by  waving  the  garden  stool 
which  he  held  threateningly  above  his  head. 
At  last  one  of  the  officers,  thinking  to  soothe  the 
man  turned  to  the  actor,  whose  every  attention 
seemed  to  be  given  to  the  Juliet  of  the  play,  and 
said,  "Sir,  is  this  true?  Are  you  the  Tom 
Summers  wanted  on  Mackinac  Island,  charged 
with  murder!" 

Like  a  bombshell  came  the  answer,  "I  am." 

"Yes,"  shrieked  Hester,  "he  murdered 
Louis  Manette.  I  saw  him  with  my  own  eyes. ' ' 

"That  is  a  lie,  Jim  Hester,  and  you  know 
it." 

Everybody  turned  to  face  the  woman  who 
285 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

had  come  rapidly  through  the  wings  and  who 
with  finger  pointed  straight  at  Hester  had  cried 
out  the  words. 

"Lettie,  Lettie,"  he  almost  screamed,  "you 
here?"  and  then  almost  pleadingly,  "Lettie,  do 
not  make  a  fool  of  yourself.  You  know  he 
killed  your  father. ' ' 

"I  know,  and  you  know,  Jim  Hester,  that  he 
did  not,  though  he  himself  believes  that  he 
did,"  came  the  reply  in  measured  tones.  "I 
killed  my  father  myself." 

"You  fool,"  shrieked  Hester,  now  mad  with 
passion,  "you  have  saved  his  neck,  but  you  will 
lose  your  own." 

Tom  stepped  forward  and  taking  Lettie 's 
hands,  cried,  "Lettie,  what  do  you  mean?  I 
do  not  understand." 

"0  Tom,"  and  she  looked  at  him  lovingly, 
"I  have  been  praying  for  this  so  many  days. 
With  my  own  lips  I  have  longed  to  lift  from 
you  the  burden  which  was  not  yours  and  at 

286 


THE  SKEIN  UNTANGLED 

last    God    has    sent    you    in    answer    to    my 
prayers. ' ' 

Then  turning  to  the  company  now  gathered 
around  them,  she  said,  "The  day  Tom  Sum- 
mers came  to  my  home  on  the  island  to  make 
peace  with  my  father  and  ask  his  favor  on  his 
marriage  to  me,  I  had  been  in  the  barn  and  had 
been  having  an  angry  debate  with  my  father. 
I  had  descended  from  the  loft  where  he  was 
and  had  thrown  myself  upon  a  bed  of  hay  in  the 
first  story  of  the  barn,  weeping  in  my  indig- 
nation and  anger,  when  Tom  passed  through 
without  seeing  me  and  mounted  to  where  my 
father  was.  He  had  scarcely  done  so  when  Jim 
Hester  entered  the  barn  and  together  we  over- 
heard the  quarrel  that  resulted  from  my 
father's  implacable  mood.  When  Tom  threw 
my  father  back  and  he  fell  through  the  trap- 
door into  the  room  below  where  we  were,  father 
was  not  injured,  but  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
with  some  mutterings  of  having  the  life  of 

287 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

Tom  he  started  again  toward  the  ladder  to 
make  his  way  up  to  him.  God  forgive  me,  but 
I  was  so  inflamed  with  his  cruelty  to  me,  and 
fearful  that  he  would  do  some  harm  to  Tom, 
that  I  sprang  forward  and  seizing  the  pitch- 
fork without  considering,  without  realizing 
what  I  was  doing,  I  stabbed  him  with  it  and  he 
fell  dead  at  my  feet.  Then  Hester  seized  me 
by  the  arm  and  half  dragged  me  out  of  the 
barn  and  back  into  the  house.  A  moment  later 
when  Tom  reached  my  father's  side  and  found 
him  dead,  he  naturally  supposed  that  when  he 
had  fallen  through  the  trapdoor  he  had  fallen 
on  the  fork  and  met  his  death.  I  know  from 
what  his  sister,  Vivian,  has  told  me  that  he 
thought  the  people  would  laugh  at  his  story 
and  would  believe  he  had  killed  my  father  in 
a  quarrel  about  me. ' ' 

"You  fool,  Lettie,  you  fool,"  shrieked  Hester 
again,  and  before  anyone  could  stop  him,  he 
sprang  forward  and  dealt  the  girl  a  blow  with 
the  garden  stool,  across  the  chest.  The  blood 

288 


THE  SKEIN  UNTANGLED 

spurted  from  her  mouth  and  she  fell  back  into 
the  arms  of  the  Admiral. 

The  officers  rushed  upon  him.  He  leaped 
backward  in  frightful  plunges  and  went  clean 
through  the  drop  scene  at  his  back.  They 
heard  him  stumble  and  then  there  was  a  crush- 
ing sound.  A  trapdoor  had  given  way  when 
he  had  landed  upon  it  with  tremendous  force 
and  he  fell  through;  as  it  sprang  back  into 
place  with  lightning  speed  it  caught  his  neck 
and  broke  it  as  quickly  and  as  neatly  as  if  it 
had  been  the  gallows  it  should  have  been. 

They  carried  Lettie  to  a  greenroom  and  a 
physician  was  summoned  from  the  audience, 
now  dismissed  without  their  cherished  pleas- 
ure. "When  he  reached  her  side  he  shook 
his  head,  and  whispered  to  her  friends  as  they 
gathered  round,  "She  may  live  an  hour,  but 
no  longer." 

Lettie  opened  her  eyes.  "Send  for  some- 
one to  take  my  oath,"  she  whispered,  "I  am 
willing  to  go  and  leave  it  all,  but  I  must  live 

289 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

long  enough  to  clear  Tom,  my  beloved  Tom," 
and  she  looked  at  him  so  fondly  that  he  sank 
on  his  knees  beside  her  couch  and  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands.  A  notary  came  and  Tom 
urged  her  to  let  the  matter  rest,  not  to  disturb 
her  last  moments  with  thoughts  of  him. 

"Ah,  but,  Tom,  my  love,"  she  fondly  whis- 
pered, "if  you  want  me  to  die  happy,  if  you 
really  want  me  to  be  undisturbed,  let  me  have 
my  way.  I  must  know  that  you  are  safe,  and 
then  I  am  willing  to  go." 

And  so  she  had  her  way.  The  deposition 
was  taken ;  she  weakly  scrawled  her  name  across 
its  page,  and  when  she  saw  a  sufficient  number 
of  witnesses  had  signed  it,  she  smiled  happily 
and  said,  "God  has  been  very  good  to  me, 
very  good.  I  have  wanted  to  see  you  so  much, 
Tom,  and  now  to  have  you  here,  to  feel  your 
arms  around  me,  to  hear  you  whisper  in  my 
ear,  to  have  Vivian  here,  and  the  dear  Admiral 
and  his  wife,  and  George, — it  makes  me  su- 
premely happy. 

290 


THE  SKEIN  UNTANGLED 

"And,  Tom,"  she  whispered  as  her  breath 
grew  shorter,  "Tom,  I  believe  the  gates  of 
Paradise  are  ajar.  I  know  God  has  forgiven 
me  my  wrong.  I  have  wept  it  out  before  Him, 
prostrate  in  the  dark  hours  of  the  night,  oh, 
so  many  times,  and  because  He  is  merciful  I 
know  He  has  forgiven  me." 

It  was  very  hard  to  give  up  this  quiet,  reliant, 
brave  girl.  Each  of  those  about  her  had  been 
drawn  very  close  to  her  in  the  past  months.  To 
the  Admiral  and  his  wife,  she  had  been  like  a 
daughter;  to  George  Thorpe,  she  was  a  dear 
friend  and  sister;  to  Vivian,  she  had  been  an 
angel  of  protection,  as  well  as  her  good  genius ; 
to  Tom,  who  had  found  her,  only  to  lose  her, 
she  was  all  that  a  woman  could  be  to  a  man. 
His  tenderness  and  care  for  her,  in  these  mo- 
ments was  a  comfort  beyond  words.  She 
looked  her  gratitude,  speaking  it  as  long  as  she 
could,  and  when  speech  failed  her,  and  the  in- 
evitable moment  was  at  hand,  her  eyes  told 
them  that  she  wished  them  near. 

291 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

They  gathered  closer,  the  tears  flowing  un- 
restrained, and  then  she  started  up  and  cried, 
"I  see  them,  the  green  fields  and  the  still  wa- 
ters," and  then  sank  back  and  spoke  no  more. 


292 


BACK  TO  THE  ISLAND 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

BACK   TO   THE   ISLAND 

IN  a  little  lot  at  Rosehill,  loved  and  tended 
by  the  Admiral  and  his  wife  because  their 
only  child  lay  sleeping  there,  Lettie  was  laid 
away.  The  passionate,  strong-willed  girl  of 
the  Canadian  hills  was  gone  from  earth  for- 
ever, but  .those  who  knew  her  best  were  to  carry 
her  memory  through  the  long  years,  and  to 
cherish  it  as  a  dear  possession. 

When  the  funeral  was  over  the  thoughts  of 
the  little  group  from  the  island  turned  home- 
ward. In  their  sorrow  a  peaceful  calm  came 
to  their  hearts.  They  were  free  to  go  home. 
The  island  home  of  their  youth  was  open  to 
them  and  none  could  say  them  nay.  They  re- 
mained with  the  Admiral  and  his  wife  for  a  few 
days,  whose  sorrow  was  too  great  to  let  them 

295 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAC 

all  go  immediately.  They  were  interested  in 
Tom's  story  of  how  strangely  fate  had  acted 
in  bringing  him  back  to  Vivian  and  to  liberty. 
While  in  the  West  he  had  met  with  an  itinerant 
theatrical  company  which  was  traveling  from 
place  to  place  giving  performances  in  which 
both  art  and  patronage  were  scant.  A  discour- 
aged member  of  the  aggregation  had  left  them 
that  day  and  this  opportunity,  poor  as  it  was, 
Tom  counted  a  godsend.  He  took  to  his 
new  life  so  readily  and  excelled  so  quickly  that 
a  theatrical  manager  who  by  chance  saw  him 
act,  gave  him  the  engagement  in  Denver,  where 
he  had  won  his  spurs. 

The  day  they  said  good-by  to  the  Admiral's 
home,  the  good  old  man  said  very  gently  as 
they  were  gathered  about  his  board  for  the  last 
time,  "  Vivian,  my  dear  girl,  all  our  hearts 
have  been  too  full  for  me  to  speak  to  you  before, 
but  before  you  go,  and  here  in  the  presence  of 
our  friends,  I  want  to  ask  you  whether  you  in- 
tend to  remain  on  the  island  or  shall  you  return 

296 


BACK  TO  THE  ISLAND 

to  the  stage !  I  speak  of  this  because,  my  dear, 
you  have  great  talent,  very  great  talent,  and  I 
fain  would  not  see  it  lost  to  the  world.  In  my 
little  theater  I  cannot  give  you  the  opportunity 
that  you  deserve,  but  I  know  that  great  mana- 
gers are  ready  to  do  this,  and  if  you  accept 
there  is  everything  that  life  has  to  give  before 
you,  riches,  fame  and  a  glorious  career." 

"My  dear  Admiral,"  spoke  George  Thorpe, 
"I  will  answer  for  Vivian  if  I  may,  for  she 
has  promised  to  be  my  wife,"  and  he  smiled 
happily  at  her.  "She  has  foreseen  some  such 
proffer  as  this,  but  neither  she  nor  I  care  for 
these  things  which  the  world  sets  so  great 
a  value  upon.  Yonder  in  the  straits  is  a  little 
island  we  love,  there  is  our  home  and  there  we 
will  live  our  lives,  quietly  and,  God  grant,  use- 
fully. We  were  all  happier  there  than  we  have 
been  in  the  great  wide  world  and  we  are  going 
back  there  to  find  our  lost  happiness." 

It  was  the  second  morning  after  and  Vivian 
stood  in  the  prow  of  a  great,  white  steamer 

297 


VIVIAN  OF  MACKINAG 

that  was  plunging  its  nose  through  the  north- 
ern waters  of  old  Michigan.  Since  dawn  she 
had  stood  there  and  looked  ever  ahead  through 
the  dashing  spray,  as  the  beautiful  craft  which 
bore  her  drew  nearer  and  nearer  every  moment 
to  the  little  island  in  the  straits.  She  would 
soon  see  it  now.  The  sun  as  it  rose  had  driven 
every  cloud  out  of  the  sky,  and  its  azure  was  as 
clear  and  as  lovely  as  the  eyes  of  the  girl  that 
swept  it  with  the  same  raptures  that  many  a 
happy  day  agone  she  had  scanned  it  from  her 
cliff. 

The  craft  pressed  on  through  the  silent  wa- 
ters. Vivian,  the  only  one  who  has  ventured 
to  rise  with  the  light  of  coming  day,  awaits 
alone  the  first  sight  of  the  gem  of  the  inland 
sea.  When  yonder  point  is  turned  it  will  be 
in  view.  Nearer  and  nearer,  her  heart  almost 
leaping  in  her  breast  with  joy; — ah,  there  it  is 
resting  on  the  waters,  the  sun  kissing  its 
crested  hill  tops,  the  waves  dashing  against  the 
foot  of  its  green  cliffs,  the  everlasting  blue  at 

298 


BACK  TO  THE  ISLAND 

its  feet,  circling  it  in  all  its  glory  of  old.  On 
yonder  beach  her  loved  ones  await  her,  on  yon- 
der island  top  is  the  sweet  old  home,  and  above 
yonder  waters,  raising  its  head  as  proudly  as 
of  yore,  is  her  cliff.  No  more  is  she  the  wan- 
dering girl  in  the  great,  unknown  world,  but 
again  and  forevermore  she  is  Vivian  of  Mack- 
inac. 


THE   END 


299 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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